A Shadow over Vulcan
by badkarma00
Summary: Sequel to Into Darkness AU. Trip returns to the land of the living, T'Pol is coerced into leaving Starfleet, Jon is faced with a decision that will force him to leave the Enterprise forever, and Malcolm Reed is caught in a power struggle that may yet turn deadly. In the middle of all this a plot by V'Las to weaken Vulcan is uncovered and forces the hand of all.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's note: First, the usual 'don't sue me' line. I do not make any money from this and there is no copyright infringement intended in any way._

 _SECOND, if you have not read my first Startrek;Enterprise story "Into Darkness", stop now and go do that. If you don't, this story will give you a migraine. Seriously._

 _THIRD, I realized after "Into Darkness" that the time line in my little AU was completely screwed up thanks to what I had done, so. . .in trying to continue my story while still staying at least somewhat true to the series while still meddling like I am prone to do, I've taken some liberties. Okay I've taken several liberties. By several I mean a bunch._

 _So suspend what you believe once again, and ride into adventure with Trip Tucker, Lord Grim the Destroyer, etc and so forth. I hope you enjoy._

 _Bad_

CHAPTER ONE

"I like it," Trip said finally, looking at the plans Kov had designed for the new cargo ships.

"They're expensive," Kov admitted. "But I did some research before I began. These ships are faster, tougher, and better armed than any cargo ships on the market today. I won't go so far as to say they're pirate proof, but. . . ."

"But they can hold their own," Trip nodded in agreement, "and run away from most threats to boot."

"That was the plan," Kov agreed. "Using the twin engine design you developed along with the quad nacelle design was the answer. Each engine is much smaller and more efficient than older designs currently in use by most cargo vessels. We've effectively doubled the speed, adding only thirty-seven percent mass to accommodate the changes."

"Top speed?" Trip asked.

"Estimated at warp 5.1," Kov replied. "And with a good engineer they can likely push 5.5 in an emergency for an hour. Perhaps a bit longer."

"So they can cruise at Warp 4, and still be considerably faster than any thing out there," Trip mused. "Dammit Kov, these ships might derail my idea of protecting convoys!" Trip laughed. "Well done, my friend."

"Thank you, Trip," Kov smiled. "We'll have the first prototype ready in less than two months. Field trials will consist of a run to Earth for shake-down, then a trip from there to Andoria carrying cargo. We'll use that run to see what changes need to be made on the follow up hulls."

"I assume Janos wants the first few for himself?" Trip asked.

"He's considering taking half the first run for his own line," Kov nodded. "The other three will be offered for sale. I expect that we'll soon have actual orders for the ships not long after that."

"Outstanding," Trip nodded in approval. "Being able to sell these hulls will go a long way toward paying for our own upkeep, I imagine."

"That's my hope as well."

"I've had a new thought myself," Trip announced, producing a PADD of his own, handing over to his friend. "See what you think about this."

Kov studied the plans for a moment, eliciting a raised eyebrow from him on three separate occasions. Finally, he looked up, grinning.

"This is a very interesting design," he said deviously. "It could change a great deal of the way we protect shipping as well as how we wage war. What made you think of it?"

"Ships like _Acheron_ , or now _Reaper_ , are expensive to build and maintain," Trip shrugged. "And while these little fellas can certainly provide escort, they would also be useful in battle and for station defense."

The design was a small 'cutter' type craft, capable of Warp 5. Designed for a small crew, leaning heavily on automation, the smaller ships were fast, nimble, and well armed.

"You could use them as escorts for your larger ships," Kov pointed out.

"And sell them as planetary defense vessels as well," Trip nodded. "They're not nearly so heavily armed, but sometimes all you need is a small hammer rather than a sledge."

"And vastly easier to produce and crew," Kov nodded.

"See about putting a crew together to get one knocked out," Trip ordered. "Let's see what we can build out of it. If it works like I think it will then I'm willing to bet we'll get advance orders for some of these, too."

"I'll see to it," Kov promised. "Tarn and the others are still working mainly on the second set of battle crusiers, but I'll run it by him for his input."

"Thanks, Kov," Trip smiled. He was about to say something else when the door chime to the conference room sounded.

"Enter!"

Delana Grix walked in, her face set in a look of determination,

"We need to talk," he told Trip. The look on her face told Trip how serious she was.

"We're about finished here, anyway, I think," Kov mentioned, gathering the PADDs from the table. "I'll let you know how things progress."

"Thanks, buddy," Trip smiled. Kov departed, leaving Trip and Delana alone.

"Have a seat." The doctor plopped into a chair, arms crossing beneath her magnificent bosom, her body language screaming defiance.

"You're an idiot," she said at once.

"Been told that before," Trip nodded. "Not by someone as sexy as you, usually, but I've also been called worse." Delana blushed but was not put off her mission.

"You have to talk to Neera."

"I already talked to 'er," Trip frowned. "What's your interest in it?"

"She's my friend," Delana scowled. "And you've hurt her. Badly."

"She's a big girl," Trip replied, though kindly. "She'll get over it. All I did was point out that certain things weren't going to happen again. Her decision is hers to make."

"Don't you know how sorry she is?" Delana demanded. "Hell, I didn't even know she _could_ cry, yet she's done almost nothing but for the last three days."

"Delana, I'm not sure this is any of your business," Trip told her. "What passed between us is. . . ."

Oh, no it's not," Delana shook her head. "Do you know she offered to 'share' you with me?" Trip thought about that a minute before catching on, his face growing dark.

"Well, that was big of 'er, considerin' I wasn't in on that conversation," he didn't quite growl.

"She made the offer so you could have an heir, you twit!" Delana almost yelled.

"I had already told her that wasn't an issue," Trip checked his anger. "And it had nothin' to do with the 'talk' we had that upset her, either."

"My point was that she loved you enough to share her relationship with you with someone else. Someone who could give you what she couldn't."

"Which, _again_ , ain't got nothin' to do with what she and I talked about," Trip said a bit more firmly. "I allowed my feelin's for her to get in my way. I changed my mind because of her influence, and it could o' cost a lotta people their lives. Including mine."

"I ain't willin' to allow that to happen again," he ended firmly. "As to sharing me, I'm not a possession. Neither was she. _Is_ she. Happens I 'share' with anyone, _I'll_ be the one decidin' that. Not her, and not you."

"You don't live in a vacuum, Trip," Delana said. "Every decision you make has an influence on those around you. It's not all about you."

"I've never said it was," Trip grated. "Nor have I implied it, neither. But things _are_ gonna change around here, Delana. I am sick and tired o' watchin' my people catch the short end of the stick. It's through. Understand? And if that means our enemies have to cease to exist to get the point across, then I got no problem with that. And I got no time for anyone who sees it differently. Not on the ship, anyway."

"My people are constantly being robbed, taken as slaves, or killed outright for no other reason than it pleases someone else. That's going to stop, and I don't really care who I have to destroy to make that happen."

"There are others, non-humans, who serve me too, and I intend to protect them and their people as well. No one else seems willing or able to do that. Earth is too weak and indecisive. Vulcan couldn't care less unless it's their own people and even then they talk more than act."

"Andoria gets 'outraged', but then they're so pre-occupied with Vulcan they can't seem to spare much thought for anything else. The list goes on, and on."

"Well, I _do_ care, and I'm both _willing and able_ to put a stop to it, and I aim to. And it's not open for discussion. In a few days, _Reaper_ will leave this dock and go slaver hunting. When she's done, slavery will be a dyin' occupation in the Alpha quadrant. Anyone who wants to live long, and prosper, as the Vulcan's would say, _better_ find another way to make a livin'."

"Neera talked me out o' fryin' Azati Prime and the weapon almost made it into space. Lot of people, includin' Xindi, died tryin' to stop it. None of 'em would o' had to if I had done what my gut told me to and destroyed the damn thing on the ground."

"I will never let that happen again," he finished darkly. "And I don't care what it costs me, personally. I can't afford to."

"So that's it, then," Delana said.

"It doesn't have to be," Trip shrugged. "Like I said, there's choices to be made. I made a bad choice, allowin' my personal feelin's to interfere with my decision makin'. That bad choice almost cost us Earth. An entire way of life and entire race of people. _My_ people."

"I will _not_ be put in the place of havin' to do that again," Trip said firmly.

"Doesn't it matter that it worked out in the end?" Delana asked, more softly.

"No, it don't," Trip replied solidly. "Nothin' but blind luck and the loss of a ship worth more than some planet's annual budget kept that thing from getting away and destroying the Earth, and maybe anything else in it's way." He paused, taking a deep breath.

"I flew my ship into that battle station knowing I was gonna die," he told her softly. "I didn't cause Shran was nearby, watchin', and took the risk of comin' in close enough to beam me out. At least seven Xindi ships and no tellin' how many more atmospheric vessels died with all hands tryin' to keep that thing from launching. They would all still be alive if I had followed my instincts and nuked the damn thing while it was still on the ground. Well, under the water," he added.

"Destroying how much?" Delana shot back. "Doing how much damage to the planet and killing how many people?"

" _I don't care_!" Trip finally snapped and Delana saw a ripple across his forehead. He stopped suddenly, beginning deep, calming breaths. She watched in a mixture of awe, fear, and wonder as Trip managed to get himself under control again.

"I didn't put the weapon there, they did," Trip spoke again, this time being very particular. "I didn't attack Earth, they did. I didn't build a weapon capable of destroying a planet, _they did_. So whatever might have happened to that planet would be on them, not on me."

"And the rest of the quadrant, hell the _Universe_ , better start understanding the same thing. The days of Earth being run over roughshod are _finished_!"

He stood abruptly, startling her.

"I don't care who it is, Delana. Not anymore. If they're out there," he waved beyond the bulkhead, "and they think they can kill our people, make them slaves, and threaten our lives, then they'll learn soon enough that I mean business."

"Had you had your way, Trip, then there wouldn't be three Xindi races on Earth working out a peace treaty," Delana reminded him.

"And there wouldn't still be the other two Xindi races out there willing and able to make war with the plans to build another one of those weapons," he replied bluntly.

"What?" Delana's shock was evident.

"Oh, Neera neglected to tell you that, did she?" Trip's voice was scornful. "How 'bout that. You walked in here all ready to condemn me and didn't know all the facts." His smirk was ugly.

"That's right, Doctor," he nodded. "The Reptilians and Insectoids are still out there. The two more warlike races of the Xindi, and they have the plans for the weapon. With the right resources, they can build another one. And I don't think we have to wonder if they'll use it, now do we?"

"I. . .I didn't know. . . ." Delana sputtered.

"You didn't, huh? Then how is it you storm in here all about how wrong I am and how good it was I didn't follow through?"

"I. . .Trip, I was just. . . ."

"That's what I live with, now," Trip finished. "That I let them get away because of a weakness in me that I allowed others to place there. Because I was too weak to say no, the Earth is still threatened with destruction. So I'll thank you, Doctor, to keep your judgmental attitudes to yourself in the future, at least until you have enough information to know what the hell you're talkin' about. Think you can do that?"

Delana, now completely cowed, simply nodded. Trip's look softened.

"I'm sorry," he said slowly. "I should have just kept my mouth shut."

"No," Delana shook her head, rising slowly. "No, you shouldn't. I should have. I had no idea the stress you were under, Trip, and I'm sorry."

"Well, if it's any consolation, I'd o' prob'ly let Neera 'share' me with ya," he grinned, and winked. Delana blushed again, but smiled back.

"Hey, it might work out so I don't have to share," she shot back. "And I'm a patient woman."

STE

"So how does it feel to be a Commodore?" Forrest asked, smiling.

"I feel like a fraud," Jon Archer replied, his hand rising on instinct to caress his new rank. "I didn't manage to do anything like enough to warrant any of this," he pointed to the medals he was now wearing.

"I disagree," Forrest said sternly. "So did the Senate."

"If it hadn't been for Trip. . . ."

"That's another discussion," Forrest held up a hand. "I'm sorry that Tucker is gone, but it was his choice."

"No it wasn't," Archer shook his head. "He was going to destroy the weapon on the ground, and several of us talked him out of it. If we hadn't, he'd still be alive."

"And there wouldn't be the start of a treaty between us and the Xindi," Forrest countered.

"Part of the Xindi," Archer reminded him.

"Regardless, things are looking bright at the moment. The Vulcan's are even singing your praises."

"Hell with the Vulcan's," Archer's voice trembled. "Other than T'Pol, the rest can burn in hell as far as I'm concerned."

"What happened to you dream of a coalition of star nations?" Forrest asked.

"No one helped us, other than Andor. And I'm fair certain that was for their own gain. I like Shran, but he wasn't there with three _Kumari_ class ships just looking around. I think they wanted the weapon, or the plans to build one, to attack Vulcan."

"I wish I'd given it to him," he muttered darkly.

"You can't say that in public," Forrest warned.

"I can say any damn thing I like," Archer shot back. "I've earned it," he added. "All of us have. The rest of you? You'll have to decide that."

"Jon, don't forget your responsibilities in a fit of anger," Forrest frowned. "We can't have the Commodore of the fleet flagship muttering about our allies."

"What allies?" Jon shot back. "Hell, you wanted to incarcerate the only people willing to help us in the Expanse, Max. Vulcan isn't an ally."

"That's enough, Jon," Forrest said flatly. "Keep your opinions to yourself."

"And if I don't?" Archer challenged.

"Then we might have to find someone else to Captain the _Enterprise_ ," Forrest threatened.

"Maybe you should do that anyway," was Archer's only reply.

STE

"What are you going to do on your leave?" Hoshi asked the duo of Mayweather and Reed.

"I'm hooking up with a friend," Mayweather grinned.

"Uh huh," Hoshi grinned back. "What about you?" she looked at Reed.

"I'm gonna see if I can find someone," Reed said absently, hoisting a bag over his shoulder. "Two weeks is a long time for leave. Not that we don't all need it."

"I heard that," Hoshi nodded. "I'm going to visit my family in Japan."

"Safe travels, Lieutenant," Reed smiled. Both Sato and Mayweather had received promotions on their return from the Expanse. "Both of you."

"Thank you, sir," the two replied in unison as Reed walked away.

"He's up to something," Hoshi said softly, once Reed was out of earshot.

"He definitely knows something we don't," Travis agreed. "Or thinks he does, anyway."

"Maybe we should follow him," Hoshi mused.

"Not a good idea," Travis shook his head. "I like the Lieutenant Commander, he's a good man. But a dangerous one, too. Better let this one lie."

STE

"Hello, Malcolm."

Reed forced himself not to start at the sound of Harris' voice, right here in public, not twenty yards from the shuttle pad.

"Harris," he nodded, still not looking. "What brings you out in the sunlight?"

"Now, now," the voice chided. "Just here to hail the returning heroes and all that."

"Mission accomplished," Reed snorted. "Anything else?"

"You came into some intelligence just before you went into the Expanse, Malcolm," Harris replied. "I'd love to know where you go it." Reed felt a tingle up his spine.

"It was anonymous," Reed shrugged. "You're the only one I've told that, by the way," he added, which was true. "I have no idea where it came from. But it was, as far as I know, completely accurate."

"I'll need to know more than that Malcolm," Harris came into view. "You know how this works."

"I know how it _used_ to work," Malcolm replied. "But not anymore. Starfleet has everything I know. Hand delivered, no less."

"You know about the ship Tucker built, though," Harris pointed out. "And I'm very interested in it. So will we do this the hard way, or the easy way, Malcolm?"

Malcolm tensed, knowing what was coming, but before he could act, three loud thuds came to his ears. Harris' eyes widened for a second before he joined his cronies on the ground. Reed turned cautiously to see a smiling Jerl McCann behind him, along with another man he didn't recognize.

"Hiya, Malcolm. Was afraid you might need a hand. How you doing?"

STE

Harris woke slowly, his senses returning in fits and starts. He finally realized that he was in a warehouse, somewhere. His men were no where to be seen.

He wasn't secured in any way, Harris was surprised to see. Whoever had him didn't think him a threat. That worked for him. What else would. . . .

"I see you're awake," a voice called out. Harris looked up to see a man standing several feet away, leaning on a shelving unit, watching him closely.

"You have no idea the trouble you're in, my friend," Harris said calmly, rising to his feet. "Do you know who I am?"

"Harris, Hiram J. Real name Harold Richard Sterling. Parents David and Michelle Leeder Sterling, 432 Virginia Cove, Dover, Maine. Leader of Section 31, a somewhat skewered name considering. Guilty of murder, torture, kidnaping, theft. . .well, you know the list as well as I do. Short answer, yes. I know who you are. And I don't care."

Harris blinked at that. He had scrubbed his real name, his familial connections from every source, every where in the world. His own family believed him dead. Long dead, in fact.

"What do you want?" he demanded.

"I want a lotta things, Harris," McCann smiled. "I'm just gonna call you Harris, since you answer to it. First and foremost, I want to let you know that Malcolm Reed is off limits to you, Harris. Now and forever more. If you call him, contact him, approach him in any way from this day forward, there won't be enough of you left to identify with a DNA scanner. Understand?"

"He works for me," Harris said firmly. "He always will."

"Always the hard way," McCann shook his head slowly. "I had read that in your file, but. . .somehow, I got the impression you were smarter than that."

Before Harris could blink, McCann was in front of him, holding Harris' left arm. Slowly, he began to squeeze. Harris almost collapsed as he felt his arm breaking under the grip.

"S. . .stop!"

"Why?" McCann continued to apply pressure. "I mean, I warned you, you didn't listen. There's no reason not to just get rid of you right now, is there?"

"What do you care about Reed?" Harris managed to grit out as the bone in his arm gave way in another place.

"He's my friend," McCann shrugged. "And he's attracted attention at a high level, if you know what I mean. Much higher than you. I've been sent to deliver a message, and see to it that it's followed. Since you openly refused, I have to. . .well, make adjustments. My orders allow for that, fortunately. So. . . ." He squeezed harder, and a third place in Harris' arm gave way, the bone crushed to near dust.

"He has information I need!" Harris screamed.

"No, you don't," McCann shook his head. "You need to go back to doing your job, and forget you ever knew the name Malcolm Reed. Now that I've explained things to you, do you think you can do that? Killing you is the last option in my orders, Harris, because despite how repulsive you are you do run an efficient organization. Still, I _am_ allowed to kill you if I have to. Do I have to?"

"N. . .No," Harris replied weakly, sinking toward the floor. His right hand, out of sight, reached toward his ankle.

"It's not there, Harris," McCann sighed, shaking his head. "I guess I do have to kill you. Tell me, is there someone in your organization who can take over for you?"

"No!" Harris screamed in pain. "No one knows. . .e. . .everything," he gasped.

"Well, that's too bad," McCann feigned sadness. "They'll have to start all over, won't they? Probably set the whole program back years. Then again," McCann mused, "that might not be a bad thing, huh?"

"P. . .please," Harris gasped. "Th. . .there's so much t. . .to do."

"And you can do it, all without Reed," McCann agreed. "Now, I think this arm is about finished, so I'll need to move to the other one. You'll need someone to help you in the bathroom for a while, I guess," he added.

"I'll leave him be!" Harris almost shouted. "He's good, that's all! I needed him!"

"You don't need him anymore, Harris," McCann's voice hardened. "I been fuckin' with you up til now. Just having some fun, so to speak. How's it feel, Harris, being treated like you treat others? Sucks, I bet." Harris felt himself lifted off the ground by his broken arm, elevated to the point that his tormentor was looking up at him.

"I don't want to have this conversation again, Harris, so we won't. Remember what I said. I was in no way joking. You'll be dust in the street if you ever approach him again."

"Oh, and just in case you misunderstand, that means if anything _happens_ to Reed, too. If he has a hover car accident, if his shuttle crashes, if he has a negligent discharge on his phase pistol, if he trips and falls on the sidewalk, I'll assume that it's _your_ fault, and you'll be dead within twelve hours. Understand?"

Harris looked down at his captor, his mind memorizing his face, his voice, everything about him.

"I can see what you're thinking, Harris," McCann sighed. "That's too bad." Before Harris could react, McCann dropped Harris, catching him by the head, and twisting sharply. The crack of his neck was sharp in the abandoned warehouse.

Dropping the body on the floor, he turned to Tomas.

"Make sure he disappears. Forever."

"Yes, sir."

STE

Neera looked up at the sound of the door chime. She was once more 'working' in the book store, covering the front of Janos' operation in Miami. While Trip had assured her she was welcome aboard his new vessel, subject to conditions, she found the idea of being near him too painful. She was fairly certain that her relationship with him was completely destroyed as a result of the events surrounding the Battle of Azati Prime, and being on the same ship with him now would be too much for her to bear.

So, she had returned to Earth. She had expected Janos to be much harsher on her than he had been. In fact he hadn't been harsh at all. To the contrary he seemed to understand all too well what she was going through and had told her to simply stay with him for the time being until she felt she was ready to take on another assignment.

Which found her looking across the counter at Malcolm Reed.

"Hello, Neera," Malcolm said softly. "How are you?"

Neera realized that Malcolm was _really_ asking how she was, thinking that she was here recovering from the shock of Trip Tucker's death. Malcolm was as yet unaware that his friend still lived.

"I'm well, Lieutenant," Neera nodded regally, smiling just a little. "It's good to see you. I assume you're well?" They had heard from Jerl McCann earlier. She doubted that Malcolm was aware of Harris' demise, and it wasn't her place to tell him.

"I am, thank you," the notoriously tight lipped Brit replied. "I was wondering if I might. . . ."

"He's expecting you," Neera nodded again. "I believe you know the way?"

"Thank you," Malcolm nodded back and stepped through the doorway behind the counter. Neera watched him disappear before turning her attention back to the store front. Another man had just entered and was looking around the store.

"May I help you, sir?" she asked, smiling.

STE

Reed made his way through the back to the door of Janos' office. He stopped for a second to brush his clothes and ensure he was presentable. Satisfied that all was in order, he raised his hand to knock. Before he could, the intercom speaker beside the door crackled.

"Do come in, _Lef_ tenant," Janos' cultured voice ordered through the speaker. Shaking his head, Malcolm opened the door and stepped inside.

"Come in, come in," Janos waved from behind the large desk. "I'm delighted to see you, Mister Reed. Delighted. May I offer you some tea?" he asked, pointing to a service sitting on the desk.

"Thank you, sir," Malcolm replied, crossing to take a seat. Janos poured two cups, setting one before his guest and taking the other in hand, leaning back into his chair.

"I appreciate you seeing me, sir," Malcolm said, lifting his own cup. As always, it was delicious. The man knew and demanded quality in everything.

"Not at all," Janos waved the statement away. "I told you before, Malcolm, you are always welcome here, even if it's just to visit. But I assume you are not here simply to visit, are you?" his eyes might have twinkled slightly.

"No sir, I'm not," Malcolm admitted. "I assume Trip is still alive, and I'd like to know for sure," he said bluntly. There was no point in beating around the bush with a man who always seemed to know what others were thinking anyway.

"What makes you think that?" Janos asked, leaning forward.

"First, he's the luckiest SOB I've ever known," Reed admitted. "Second, he's too smart not to have a backup plan. Third, he's the luckiest SOB I've ever known." Reed grinned to rob the words of any sting. Janos looked at him for a moment before throwing his head back, laughing.

"You really are a remarkable young man, Mister Reed," he said at last. "And yes, Trip Tucker does still live," he admitted without hesitation. "That information has to stay with you, however. Charles is adamant that he remain 'dead' so far as Starfleet is concerned. He is even now preparing to embark on another war, this time against the Orion Syndicate."

"Sir?" Reed blurted. "Against the Syndicate?" Reed's relief at the confirmation of his suspicion was overridden by this new tidbit.

"Yes," Janos nodded, leaning back once more in his seat. "I'm afraid that Charles encountered a young human woman, a slave, whilst recruiting foot soldiers for his foray into the Expanse. Killed her former owner, of course," he frowned at that, "and decided that once his problems with the Xindi were decided that he would put an end to the slave trade in the Alpha Quadrant. I have, of course, fully endorsed such an endeavor."

"That's a tall order," Malcolm settled for saying.

"And in good hands," Janos nodded agreement. "I don't suppose you're here to tell me you want to join him, are you?" He tried to keep the excitement from his voice, but heard it seep through none-the-less.

"No sir, though I admit it is tempting," Reed admitted. "And I need to thank you, and Jerl, for intercepting Harris for me. I had assumed he'd make contact at some point wanting more about the _Acheron_ , but I didn't expect him to be in broad daylight right at the docks. He's getting bolder."

"Harris won't be troubling you in the future, Malcolm," Janos promised. "In fact he won't be troubling anyone, ever again," he added, voice growing hard. Reed's eyes widened slightly at that, but he managed to merely nod.

"I see," he replied.

"Good," Janos nodded. "I suppose it's possible that someone will contact you, wanting you to take Harris' place with Section 31. You might want to act surprised when that happens," he added with dry humor that made Reed chuckle darkly.

"Duly noted," he nodded his agreement. "I wanted to see also if you're up to date on the Xindi situation?"

"Treaty with three of five races, two still at large with the plans to rebuild that weapon, yes I'm aware," Janos nodded. Reed reached into his pocket and removed a data chip.

"I brought you a gift this time," he smiled, sliding the chip across the table. "At least I think I did. You're familiar with the Xindi Vortex Manipulator?"

"Oh, yes," Janos nodded. "I'm told it's a remarkable. . .is this the plans for it?" he cut himself off, taking the chip.

"It is, indeed," Malcolm managed not to smile. "My gift to you, sir. Sort of a _quid pro_ , if you will. I'm sure that Trip and Kov can make use of it."

"I'm certain they can," Janos nodded. "A very kingly gift indeed, Mister Reed," Janos said softly. "How _did_ you manage it?"

"You really don't want to know, sir," Reed replied evenly. "But it's not traceable. It just. . .is."

"Well done," Janos leaned back, depositing the chip into his desk. "I thank you, young man."

"I don't know what we'll be doing next," Reed continued. "There's been no rotation as yet, which I honestly expected. The _Enterprise_ will likely be in for refit while we're all on leave, but after that I'm assuming we'll put back out. There's no scuttlebutt as to where we'll be headed or what mission we'll be on. Well, there is one," he corrected himself. "There is a rumor that we'll be returning to Xindi space on a trade mission of some sort. I don't think it's accurate, myself, but that is the rumor. Personally, I can't see it. While the delegation will most likely be ferried out aboard an NX class ship, I can't see the _Enterprise_ being that vessel."

"No?" Janos asked.

"It's a good shakedown cruise for a new boat and crew, especially since the mission will be accompanied by the returning Xindi representatives," Reed expanded. "That's just my opinion, of course, but it makes sense. There are three new ships either already on trials, or about to begin them. It makes more sense to allow one of the newer vessels to make that run."

"A sound strategy," Janos nodded. "I have heard rumblings of some kind of turmoil on Vulcan, though I don't yet know what that's about," he confided in Reed. "Something to do with the High Command and their issues with a cult of some kind. Syrians or something of that sort," he frowned. "I thought our own Syrians were enough trouble. I never imagined that the Vulcans had the same issues."

"I'll try and sound out T'Pol about it, sir," Reed offered. "She may know about the cult. Even if it's hear-say, and she'll share it, it might give you an idea of the problem. Is there a chance this will impact Earth's relations with the Vulcans?"

"I don't know as yet," Janos admitted. "Our 'relations' with Vulcan are somewhat cloudy at the moment anyway. I hope that their internal issues stay just that; internal. Still, any shakeup in their government is bound to have at least some effect on us. Agreed?"

"Yes sir," Reed nodded. "I'll forward anything I can find out to you, through Jerl. Will that be satisfactory?"

"Very much so, and I appreciate it," Janos replied. "Though I don't want any question about your loyalty, Mister Reed."

"There is none," Reed declared. "I've seen where your loyalty lies, sir. I'll take my chances."

"Thank you, young man," Janos' voice rang with sincerity. "I appreciate that. Now, could I interest you in a good steak?"

STE

Neera watched the man who had entered the store after Malcolm closely. The man had refused her offer of assistance, insisting he just wanted to look. That in itself wasn't unusual, and the store actually did a good bit of business that way. But this man was paying far too much attention to the store, and not enough to what was inside it, including her. While not vain about it, Neera knew that men found her attractive, and it was a rare man who entered the store that she didn't catch giving her a once over.

This man had not. Again, that in and of itself wasn't an indictment. He might be gay of course. But that was two datum points against him.

And now he had taken a PADD from his jacket and was trying to use it. She watched in rye amusement as the man tried in vain to connect the PADD to the web. After Malcolm Reed's visit and his threat to torpedo the store from space by remote, Janos had installed a dampening field in the building to prevent any signal not passing through the store's own wireless from escaping.

"Can I help you, sir?" Neera asked again, approaching the man. He looked up, eyes narrowing.

"Why can't I access the web?" he demanded.

"I have no idea, sir," Neera replied. She made a show of checking her own PADD. "I'm connected, sir, it must be your unit." She looked up again, but the man was no longer interested in his PADD. Instead his hand was emerging from under his jacket with a phase pistol. He grabbed Neera's arm, aiming the pistol more or less at her head.

"Not a sound," he warned in what she was sure he felt was a threatening voice. She managed to nod shakily, as if terrified. In truth she could already have killed him, but she needed to know who he was, who he worked for, and most importantly if anyone knew he was here.

"I want the man who came in here before me," he hissed, jerking Neera toward the counter. She went along because if she hadn't the man couldn't have moved her at all. "Where is he?" her 'captor' demanded.

"There's no one in here but you and I," Neera replied, more or less honestly. "The man who came in earlier met someone else and then they departed together. I don't know where to."

The man studied her for a long moment, and Neera fought the urge to sigh. She really needed to take acting lessons for occasions such as this. Finally the man pulled her arm again, moving her behind the counter.

"Enter the address I give you," he demanded, indicating the terminal behind the counter. "And don't even think of anything else." He rattled off a set of numbers quickly. Neera pretended to be too scared to enter them quickly so the man had to repeat them. She punched the numbers into the screen. When the connection didn't go through she tried it again without being told.

"Why isn't it working?" the man demanded, emphasizing his question with a prod from the phase pistol.

"I don't understand," Neera told him, trying the address again. She knew exactly why it wasn't working. Beneath the counter was a switch that killed the terminal's connection without cutting off the power. The signal was leaving the terminal, but going nowhere.

"Get up!" the man ordered, dragging Neera from the chair. Which was about all of that Neera was prepared to take. When she was on her feet she just kept getting up, her fist coming under the man's chin with bone jarring force.

He hit the floor as if his bones had been removed. Neera looked down at him straightening her jacket and brushing herself off. Then she took her own com from her pocket and made a call.

Jerl McCann was a busy man today.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

 _Reaper_ moved through space with the grace of the being it was named for. More powerful even than _Acheron_ had been thanks to improvements made by Kov while Trip was in the Expanse, the _Reaper_ was the most powerful ship in the known universe at the moment. And at that moment _Reaper_ was shadowing a heavily modified Janos Lines cargo freighter, trolling for whoever might pounce on it.

"How's the _Kingfisher_ making it?" Trip asked as he lounged in his command chair. More than one member of the crew had remarked, in private, how much Trip looked like a king of old, sitting on his throne. It wasn't that the chair was all that impressive, it was simply the air of Lord Grim. He was a warrior king who led warriors. Simple as that.

"Five by, m'lord," Julio Givens replied. "No problems."

"Scopes are clear at the moment, sir," the sensor officer confirmed. "We're good."

Trip grunted by way of reply, returning to the PADD he was working on. While he had developed some patience, it wasn't unlimited. He literally ached for action of some kind.

 _Patience, young Charles_ , he heard in his head. _All things in their own time_.

 _Yeah, yeah, I know_ , Trip thought back to his symbiot. _I'm just bored_.

He felt rather than heard the chuckle of mirth from his ride along partner. It was comfortable relationship for all that the creature he still knew only as Friend was still remarkably reluctant to explain much to him. That really didn't bother Trip as much as it might once have. He had time aplenty now. Always would have.

"We might have something, sir," the sensor officer, a young Andorian woman named Tana'ran called softly. "Just on the edge of sensor range but closing quickly. Now two contacts, sir."

"Give the _Kingfisher_ the heads up," Trip ordered Julio as he straightened in his chair.

"Track firming," Tana'ran called, working the sensors calibration. She was using only passive scan to get information which reduced their range. "Estimate intercept in fifteen minutes, sir."

"Give 'em the word," Trip ordered Julio. The other man nodded and relayed the information to their charge via a tight beam transmission. The _Reaper_ had been coasting along for ten days hoping to attract the attention of a slaver. Or pirate. Or pretty much anything else for that matter. Now it appeared they had.

"Jason says they're ready, milord," Julio replied, grinning slightly. "And eager," he added.

"Probably as bored as I am," Trip muttered. "About time we got a nibble."

"Now three tracks, sir," Tana'ran reported. "ETI now ten minutes. Speed increasing on all three vessels, revised ETI. . .eight minutes."

"Looks like we got us a winner," Trip smiled ferally and looked at the towering Klingon next to him.

"Dru'hak, get the troops ready," he ordered. "Remind 'em I need prisoners," he added. "Live ones, able to still speak."

"I will do so, milord," Dru'hak smiled back and departed the bridge. He would personally lead the assault force for one of the three ships.

"Kron, let's go to battle stations," Trip ordered the other Klingon officer on the bridge.

"Aye, milord," the giant tactical officer nodded. He hit a button on his console and red lights began flashing as a klaxon blared throughout the ship.

" _Action stations, actions stations, all hands to actions stations, this is not a drill. Combat operations commencing in five minutes!_ " The order repeated three times as the klaxons faded.

"Battle stations manned and ready, milord," Kron reported two minutes later. "We are ready."

"Jerry, we'll wait until they're committed, then move in behind 'em," Trip informed his helmsman.

"Aye, milord," Jerry Trail nodded.

"ETI two minutes," Tana'ran reported. "They are slowing milord, matching speed with _Kingfisher_."

"Kron I want to disable all three ships as quickly as we can without destroying 'em," Trip ordered. "I need an address."

"Understood milord," Kron nodded, his eyes never leaving his own scope.

Trip wanted to find a slaver den and destroy it. He figured that would start something somewhere and then he'd take advantage of that to make his move on the Orion Syndicate.

Janos had completely backed that plan and had even provided another squad of soldiers to support it. Special soldiers. With those new troops, in addition to Hunter, Dru'hak and his Klingons, and Tragon'Das and his Denobulan Spec Ops troops, Trip had all the muscle he needed to destroy just about anyone he chose to.

It was a heady feeling, and one he had to fight to keep from overwhelming him.

" _Kingfisher_ is taking fire," Julio reported. "Jason reports they are trying to take down their shields." Trip nodded his understanding. With shields down, transporters could beam slavers aboard.

"Let's take 'em," he ordered calmly. _Reaper_ suddenly lurched forward for ten seconds before dropping out of warp right on top of three Orion vessels. Without waiting for the command, Kron opened fire.

STE

"You two look very chipper."

Malcolm Reed was looking at Hoshi and Travis as they sat together in the mess hall aboard Enterprise. The ship was currently at Warp 3 cruising steadily toward Vulcan, ferrying Ambassador Soval and two UE diplomats on some kind of diplomatic mission.

"We're just enjoying the peace and quiet of being in space but not being shot at," Hoshi replied primly.

"Mm hm," Reed raised an eyebrow as he sat down with them. "Give."

"Sir?" Travis looked suitably confused.

"You two are up to something," Reed accused, though without rancor. "I want to know what it is."

"We really aren't up to anything sir," Travis replied after exchanging a look with his partner in crime. "We were just. . .well, we're wondering why we were tapped for this trip instead of someone else, that's all."

"Why shouldn't we be?" Reed asked.

"It's no secret the Captain isn't really a big fan of Vulcan at the moment, sir," Travis pointed out.

"He hates their guts," Hoshi supplied flatly. "And to be honest, except for T'Pol, I agree."

"Understandable," Malcolm nodded. As Second Officer he couldn't, or at least shouldn't, engage in such talk, but these two were original crew members. It was different.

"I don't see any reason for us to keep being friends with Vulcan," Travis shrugged. "They certainly aren't our allies. And I honestly can't say they're even friendly. Yet here we are, ferrying the Grumpy Old Vulcan himself along with two diploboobs to Vulcan."

"Diploboobs?" Hoshi cackled. "Oh, God I wish I'd thought of that!"

"This is highly unprofessional," Malcolm tried vainly to keep a straight face. "All I know is there is some kind of conference on Vulcan and those two are attending as guests of Ambassador Soval. What the subject of the conference is I do not know."

"Who cares," Travis shrugged. "Are we gonna stay on station after we dump them off?"

"That's _drop_ them off, Lieutenant," Reed said as sternly as he could manage. "And I don't know. If our orders are to remain on station the Captain hasn't shared that with me."

"Maybe T'Pol knows," Hoshi said, her face clearly deep in thought. "She's been fairly reticent though. Does anyone know where she spent her leave?"

"No idea," Malcolm shook his head truthfully. "I've been meaning to speak to her about another matter to be honest. I'll try and sound her out about our orders."

"We'll be waiting," Travis grinned and Reed shook his head as he got to his feet. It really was unprofessional how he treated with those two, but. . .they had become his friends in the Expanse. Something he was as surprised at as they were.

Malcolm had spent the bulk of his leave in Miami doing one thing or another. He knew that what was left of Section 31 had tried to locate him after Harris met with his misfortune. Since Harris had been after him suspicion would naturally fall upon him in Harris' disappearance. As a result he had been able to spend some very quality time in the company of July Novichek once again, something he had assumed would never happen. It had been a delightful way to spend his leave, and it was also an excellent way to cover him in any investigation into Harris' disappearance. A soft smile graced his features as he thought of July in a bikini along the beaches of Virginia Key.

"That's a very interesting smile, Commander," Travis noted. Reed shook himself out of his daydream.

"Just thinking about my own leave," he said truthfully. "And yes, if she tells me what we're doing, I'll share so long as I'm not ordered to keep it to myself."

"We do so appreciate your willingness to be corrupted by younger officers," Hoshi batted her eyes theatrically. Reed snorted at her antics as he left the table, the two junior officers already talking about something else. He returned to the bridge to find T'Pol in the Captain's chair, reading a PADD. She looked up as he entered.

"Commander," Reed nodded, moving to her side though keeping out of her personal space. "May I ask a question?"

"Of course," T'Pol looked at him.

"Are we going to remain on station once we're delivered the diplomats?" he asked. "Or will we perhaps return to exploring?"

"The Captain has kept our orders close, Commander," T'Pol replied. "I have not yet been told what our itinerary will be once we reach Vulcan."

"Will you be going planetside?" Reed asked. "If we have the opportunity I mean? I'd imagine you didn't have enough time to visit your home with only ten days leave."

"I did not," T'Pol agreed. "If we have the time then I will likely go down to the surface, but I cannot make such a plan until I know our schedule."

"I was just thinking that surely we can spare the time to allow you to visit your home," Reed said truthfully. "It's the least we can do after you stood by us in our time of need." He looked her in the eyes.

"And I apologize, Commander, for not having offered my thanks for that before now," he added. "So far as I'm concerned, we stand indebted to you and I honestly don't know how we can repay that."

T'Pol blinked at that. The weapons officer was notoriously close lipped and not prone to anything like flattery. Especially empty flattery.

"Your gratitude is unnecessary Commander," she settled for saying. "I did that which was right in my view, nothing more."

"It may be unnecessary to you, Commander, but not to us," Reed said quietly. "And we all appreciate it."

"You are . . . welcome," T'Pol stumbled with the reply, the words foreign to her. "I will try again to ascertain if we will remain on station," she said, standing. "You have the bridge."

"Aye, Commander," Reed nodded. "The Captain's mood hasn't been good the last few days," he said as an afterthought. "Do you know if he managed to take leave like the rest of us?"

"I do not," T'Pol answered. "If he did not that might explain his 'mood'," she observed.

"I can imagine," Reed nodded.

"Indeed," T'Pol nodded and then departed. Reed watched her go, enjoying the view as always.

STE

Jonathon Archer was angry. He was angry, he was disappointed, he was so many things all rolled into one that he didn't know which emotion to feel or try to deal with first.

His orders had seemed like a slap in the face considering the events of the Expanse, but Forrest had made it clear that he could either carry them out of find himself commanding a desk. Archer had his doubts that Starfleet could get away with relieving him without being crucified in the public arena, but he wasn't willing to subject his crew to that kind of media circus.

 _Enterprise_ had been home for over two months, but Jon had not been able to take leave until the Xindi negotiations were close to completed. As a result, his own leave had fallen short of the promised two weeks.

And now, here he was on his way to Vulcan after just ten days leave carrying a Vulcan that he would cheerfully toss out an airlock if the chance arose. He'd add the two Earth diplomats along with him for a little more. Both were disgustingly sucking up to Soval in an attempt to get on the pointy eared bastard's good side. Which he didn't have, Archer snorted. Those two were too stupid to realize that, he assumed.

His ruminations were cut off by the chime of his ready room door.

"Come!" he called out. The door slid open to reveal T'Pol. The Vulcan First Officer stepped inside, allowing the door to close.

"Captain, there is some question among the crew about our orders," she said without preamble. "Will we remain on station after delivering Soval and the others?"

"I'm afraid so," Archer's disgust was palpable. "We're to stay on station for the next two weeks, despite all I could do to change it. There's no reason for us to have to stay when we could be out exploring." He looked at T'Pol. "At least that will give you a chance to have shore leave at home, T'Pol."

"It is of no consequence," T'Pol admitted. "Indeed, I am not at all sure that I would be welcome on the surface, Captain. Nor does that concern me greatly at this point."

"Because you helped us?" Archer asked, knowing the answer. T'Pol hesitated, then nodded once, slightly.

"I'm sorry, T'Pol," Archer said sincerely. "That's about as wrong as it can be. If it makes you feel better, Earth isn't treating me much nicer. Of course that's got nothing to do with the Expanse mission and everything to do with my mouth," he added wryly.

"I have heard you say nothing that was not true," T'Pol said evenly.

"Truth isn't in large demand at the moment," Archer replied flatly. "Not with Starfleet anyway. This 'exchange' is just a ploy to try and get back on Vulcan's good side," he snorted. "As if they have one. No offense."

"None taken," T'Pol assured him. "I doubt the outcome of this exchange will be in any way beneficial."

"Same here," Archer admitted. "But orders are orders. At least with those two stuffed suits on board I don't have to deal with Soval."

"I know that he can be. . .irksome, to you," T'Pol said diplomatically.

"That's a nice way to say it," Archer grinned. "Don't mind me, T'Pol. None of us think anything but the best about you, and you know that I hope," he said earnestly.

"The crew have been very vocal in their support of me despite Vulcan's lack of assistance."

"That's because we recognize what you did for us, and we appreciate the sacrifice you made," Archer told her. "And we won't forget it, even if Starfleet does."

"I am gratified to have your good opinion," T'Pol nodded once. "May I inform the crew that we will indeed remain on station for at least the two weeks?" she asked.

"Yes," Archer sighed. "No reason to hide it from them. We'll try to arrange two day leaves for the crew in rotation. At least to the embassy and Human sector. I'm sure we can do better for you if you change your mind."

"We shall see."

STE

"I'm happy. Dru'hak are you happy?" Trip was smiling.

"I am indeed, milord," Dru'hak was not smiling.

"Jason, you happy?"

"I am _very_ happy, milord." Jason Hunter _was_ smiling along with his commander.

"Well, we're all happy," Trip turned his attention back to the Orion currently staring at him from the brig cell. "You, though, you don't look happy. What's your name, anyway?"

The Orion sat glumly silent.

"I guess we can call you the Green Giant," Trip mused and Hunter snorted, having lived in a time where he recognized the reference.

"Lookie here, buddy," Trip said suddenly, his smile gone along with his fake good cheer. "You're gonna tell me what I wanna know, one way or another. You may not think so, but I promise ya, you will. You can make it easy on yourself, or you can make it so I enjoy this a lot more than I really ought to." Trip held a two inch diameter durasteel rod in his hands.

"You will beat me?" the Orion snorted. "Puny human."

"You mean with this?" Trip feigned confusion, holding the bar up. "Nah, this is just my walkin' stick. When I'm bored I play with it. Kinda like a toy for grown ups." Trip held the bar up in both hands. "See what I mean?"

Trip's facial features never changed as he exerted pressure on the bar. Slowly, steadily, the large bar began to bend in his hands. The Orion's look of bored disinterest began to fade.

"So no," Trip shook his head as the bar continued to bend, "I don't use it to beat on people. Not even scum suckin' slavers. I used to be a engineer, so I need to keep my hands busy, that's all." He smiled as he finished bending the bar into a narrow horse-shoe shape. He casually tossed the now deformed bar into the cell, the heavy rod clanging on the deck plate.

"You can keep that as a souvenir," Trip told him. "Cause I'ma wrap the next one around ya neck and tie a knot in it you don't tell me what I wanna know. Get me?"

"I was not aware that Starfleet allowed such practices," the big slaver looked uneasy for the first time.

"Oh, we ain't a part o' Starfleet," Trip smirked at the prisoner. "No, we work for the man who owns the ship you just tried to capture." He made a motion to the guard and the cell door suddenly popped open. Trip stepped inside easily but left the door open.

"Where is your base, Green Bean?" he demanded. "Last chance 'fore things get ugly."

The Orion was off the bunk and moving in what he fondly imagined was a movement too quick for his captor to counter. While he knew escape was not likely, he could certainly maim this human. He was not fooled by the parlor tricks of bending a weakened bar.

He was surprised when said human's hand wrapped around his large throat, stopping his assault before it began. Green Bean was shocked when he felt himself lifted off his feet by the puny human and then slammed to the deck with enough force to drive the air from his lungs in one might rush.

Stunned, Alad-Habar gasped for air as he stared up at the _puny_ human that had manhandled him so easily.

"I'ma count to three," Trip said easily, not even breathing hard. "Then, I'ma start squeezin'. See I got a bunch o' you locked up here. I don't need but one. The rest? I can space them and get rid of 'em. So what's it gonna be?"

Alad-Habar started talking. He talked for a very long time indeed.

STE

"You wished to see me?"

T'Pol had been summoned to Soval's guest quarters for a private audience.

"I have been in contact with your mother," Soval told her without fanfare. "She desires to see you when we arrive at Vulcan."

"If my duties allow it, I will consider her request," T'Pol said evenly. "Was there anything else?"

"Your duty to your mother, and to Vulcan, supercede any duty you may have aboard this ship," Soval replied. "This human ship."

"I recall we have had this discussion before," T'Pol's voice was calm. "I have no wish to repeat it. If I have the time, I plan to call upon her. Perhaps even invite her to visit here," she added. "That she may see where I live and work."

"Your presence on the planet will be necessary," Soval told her flatly. "Your betrothed wishes to be wed upon your arrival."

"I have no betrothed," T'Pol suddenly felt uneasy but mastered the emotion quickly. She was grateful to Delana Grix for having repaired her neural pathways. That allowed her to regain her emotional control and be very Vulcan indeed.

"Koss and his father have placed your mother in a particularly bad position," Soval informed her. "Unless you fulfill your marriage vow, T'Les will suffer for it."

"So we now stoop to blackmail among our own people while we continue to berate the humans as beneath us," T'Pol was amazed at her calm. "Fascinating. More so that you would support such a crime against a member of your own clan, my _en'ahr'at_. Far you have fallen."

She could detect a slight green tinge to Soval's skin as he flushed in anger, though he gave no other sign of her having scored a hit.

"I am not in a position to assist her," he settled for saying. "I have been censured for my failure to bring you under control."

"I see," T'Pol nodded. "You seek to punish me for acting with honor rather than simply following orders that defied logic."

"Your duty-"

"Do not presume to speak to me of duty, Uncle, when you are a party to my blackmail, using a threat to my mother to accomplish that threat. You speak to me of duty while allowing such a dishonorable act against a member of your own clan?" Once more T'Pol thanked Delana Grix. Without the Betazoid woman's help, she would now be beside herself with emotional trouble.

"I have already told you I am powerless to stop this," Soval replied. "If I had the ability, I would use it."

"Would you?" T'Pol's words cut across the room for all that they were spoken flatly and without emotion. "I sincerely doubt that, my _en'ahr'at_. After this you are the last person to speak of the subject of honor." Without waiting for a reply she turned and departed the room, managing to master her control as she stalked the passageway to the turbolift, and then to her own quarters.

 _Koss_. She had thought herself rid of him when she had refused to return to Vulcan and wed him before. As a result of her refusal to return, the betrothal was broken. It had been Commander Tucker who had led her to that decision then, telling her to do what her heart led her to do.

She allowed the melancholy to wash over her without suppression as she thought of Charles Tucker. Of all the humans she had encountered in her 'adventures' among them, Charles 'Trip' Tucker had been the one to affect her the most. She would never admit it to anyone else and rarely admitted it to herself, but, she. . . _missed_ him. She felt regret that he was not with her now, to share this news with. To find support in his concern for her.

But she would not see Trip Tucker again. He had made the ultimate sacrifice for his people, riding his ship into a weapon meant to destroy his people in an act of genocide. An act worthy of song and poem, of remembrance for generations to come. Now there was a man, a being, of honor. True honor the likes of which few, human or Vulcan, shared.

Suddenly she rose, straightening her uniform. While she could not speak any more with Trip Tucker, there was someone she could perhaps speak to. Someone who had been close to Trip and would, perhaps, understand her needs more clearly than anyone else. Certainly anyone aboard this ship.

Someone who might just channel a bit of the man she missed so very much and advise her what action to take.

She set out to find Malcolm Reed.

STE

"Well, that went well," Trip said as he, Dru'hak and Jason walked through the ship toward the galley. "Now I'm hungry," he admitted. "Have Jerry plot a course for this asteroid, Dru'hak," Trip ordered. "And tell Julio to send _Kingfisher_ home once we've recovered our strike team. There's no sense in their being out here."

"Aye, milord," the towering Klingon bowed his head slightly and set out for the bridge. Hunter remained by his side.

"Go ahead and say it," Trip told him as the two stepped into the Captain's mess. "Jen!" he called out. Seconds later a fresh faced blonde with green eyes that hinted at mischief appeared.

"Milord?"

"I'm hungry," Trip told her. "But. . .I don't know what I want. Ever get that way?"

"All the time, milord," Jen admitted. "Want me to surprise you?" she asked.

"In a good way only," Trip warned. "But no catfish. I'm savin' that."

"Aye, milord," Jen nodded. "Jason?" she looked at Hunter.

"Might as well surprise me too, I suppose," he shrugged.

"Two surprises coming up!" she bubbled and returned to her own domain.

"Hard to believe she's two hundred years old, give or take," Trip shook his head watching her go.

"True, milord," Hunter agreed.

"Now," Trip leaned back as he took a seat. "Get it outta your system. I know you wanna."

"It's not that, milord," Hunter shook his head. "You should know by now that I have no qualms or queasiness about our dealings with these. . .vermin." He made the word sound like a curse.

"Then what is it?" Trip asked. He had been sure Hunter was about to chastise him about his recent behavior.

"Milord, without Neera aboard, your training has suffered," Hunter said evenly. "I know that you are. . .special, but sir, you cannot ignore the needs of training. Without it you could make a mistake that you can't undo."

Trip considered that. He _had_ been slacking off without Neera. He missed the Amazon warrior woman more than he wanted to admit.

"You're right," he nodded firmly. "Tell Trina I'll want her to work with me starting tomorrow. I'll try to set a regular schedule for it."

"Trina may not be able to stay with you, milord," Hunter cautioned. "She is young, yet."

"So am I," Trip grinned. "Tell her if she can't handle it to be honest and tell me. We'll work something else out. But I'll work, Jason. No more slacking off."

"Thank you, milord," Hunter sighed in relief. Annoyed, Trip looked at him.

"Am I that damn hard to talk to, Jason?" he demanded. "I mean you act relieved I didn't tear. . ." Trip stopped, more angry at what he'd been about to say.

"No milord," Hunter shook his head. "You aren't. But you are in command. If you had refused to continue your training I would have been duty bound to try and make you. An effort I was not looking forward to."

"I said I'd do it," Trip grumbled, still smarting at his near reference to 'tearing your head off'. He had done that, more than once, since his transition.

"And I know you will, milord," Hunter nodded again. "You are a man of your word in all things. It is one of the things the crew admires most about you."

Mollified, Trip almost smiled when Jen brought in two corned beef on rye sandwiches.

"Surprise!" she bubbled.

"Wow, that looks and smells great!" Trip enthused. "Thanks."

"Well, dig in while it's hot!" she urged the two men. Both did so with gusto, the almost flap between them forgotten.

STE

"Has there been any fallout over Harris? Or his cronies?"

Jerl McCann looked at Janos. His boss was sitting ramrod straight in his high backed chair, clearly exercised about something.

"No fallout as yet, milord," McCann replied. "There is a great deal of scrambling about, much like a chicken with no head at the moment. Having Malcolm spend his leave with July was a stoke of genius, sir. The Section's spies watched his closely the entire time so there's no way to pin any of this on him, at least in any official way."

"And unofficially?" Janos demanded.

"I've. . .taken steps to ensure that Reed is protected, sir," McCann sounded less certain of himself now.

"Steps?" Janos' eyebrow rose sharply. "What steps? What _kind_ of steps, Jerl?"

"I inserted one of my people into the _Enterprise_ crew," McCann admitted. "Someone able to stay close by, but not be obtrusive. A trained intelligence agent that can probably sniff out any kind of plot aboard Enterprise whether it pertains directly to Malcolm or not."

"Malcolm, is it?" Janos asked, a slight grin coming to his features. "Like him that much, do you?"

"He's very good, yes sir," McCann nodded. "I hope one day he joins us. We could use him in our operations."

"I hope the same," Janos nodded. "Meanwhile, keep a close eye on Harris' clown circus. And step up your own intelligence gathering, at least for now. With that idiot gone we need to take up the slack until someone gets control."

"Already done, milord," McCann replied.

"Excellent."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

"What will you do?"

T'Pol looked at Malcolm Reed and felt the stirring of unease. Perhaps she had erred in sharing this with him.

"I am undecided," she admitted, deciding to go with her original instincts for now. "I am not aware of the threat to my mother as yet. Until I know what Koss and his father have against her I cannot make an informed decision."

"Call her and speak to her," Reed urged. "We're close enough now you should be able to speak to her without difficulty."

"I would not want to risk such a discussion being overheard," T'Pol admitted. "Any admission she might make could be damaging to her."

Reed looked at her for a moment. They were in his quarters, and to say he was shocked when the XO had shown up at his door wanting to talk would be the height of understatement. Intuitively Reed knew that it wasn't him T'Pol was talking to, but Trip. He wanted to tell her that the engineer was safe and sound and probably killing slavers by now, but he couldn't. Janos had made it clear that Trip wished to remain off the radar for now.

So all T'Pol had was Reed. And Malcolm knew he was a bloody poor substitute for Trip Tucker. Still, he could help her in one area that even Trip could not. He crossed to his terminal and entered a code. He waited until the screen changed and then entered another. Suddenly the screen went dark, then slowly came back up. The background was now solid brown, an entry for a com address the only break in that background.

"This is completely secure," he told her calmly. "No one will be able to record it, even if her end of the connection is tapped. What I've just done will render any recording completely useless." He took a stop watch from his desk drawer and handed it to her.

"When your mother answers, you have ten minutes. After that the program will shut itself down. I'd prefer you end the call before that happens." He rose and pulled on the ridiculous jacket that was now part of his uniform.

"I just remembered something I need to check on in the Armory," he told her. "I shouldn't be too long. Please make yourself at home." Without another word Reed walked out, the door hissing shut behind him. She heard the lock engage and realized that Reed had sealed the door from the outside. Only she or Commodore Archer would be able to open the door now.

 _Cast out fear_ , the mantra rolled through her head. With no further hesitation she rose and went to the terminal.

STE

Soval tried to meditate in his quarters but found he was unable to do so. T'Pol's words had struck him harder than he had let on. He had been truthful with her in that he was unable to block the actions of Koss' father, Kovek, or to protect T'Les from her actions.

What he had not told his niece, his ward, was that her mother was absolutely guilty of the crimes she stood suspected of, if not those she was threatened with. Her mother was a Syrranite, a follower of a man who claimed to carry the _katra_ of Surak himself, and to know the location of the original _kishara_ , written by the originator of Vulcan logic.

Soval doubted this claim, though he admitted it was possible. What was more, he wanted to believe it. He wanted it to be true because if it were, then many things on his home world would change for the better.

And Vulcan might finally be free of V'Las and his corrupt regime for good.

The true reason that Soval was out of favor and lacked the ability, the power and influence to aid and assist T'Les was that he had advocated sending Vulcan ships to defend the Earth while _Enterprise_ was in the Expanse. His argument was logically presented and should have been convincing, but V'Las listened and then cast it aside in disdain. No Vulcan assistance would be spared for Earth and her pathetic Starfleet.

Soval knew a great deal more than the average Vulcan. About many things. Including the fact that the Romulans were, in fact, the _Rhihansu_ , the Winged Ones of old. Those who had refused to embrace Surak's logic and had instead left Vulcan in search of a new world, vowing to return one day when they were strong enough to take possession of their home world.

They were very near to being able to do just that, and Soval was convinced that V'Las was helping them. Might even himself be a Romulan plant who had managed to work his way onto the Council and then finally attained the chair of the Vulcan High Command. He was now a very powerful Vulcan, if he was indeed a Vulcan.

Soval had seen signs that might indicate otherwise. While V'Las was careful to maintain his disinterested disdain that most Vulcans found acceptable, especially when dealing with offworlders, Soval had noted on more than one occasion that V'Las often showed emotion, both in his features and his actions. No true Vulcan would allow such, especially not one is such a lofty position as V'Las occupied.

The effort to ensnare T'Pol was puzzling to Soval. Kovek had apparently managed to gain enough influence to have T'Les removed from her teaching position at the Science Academy, but also had the necessary influence not only to prevent her arrest, but also to _restore_ her teaching status, provided that T'Pol marry Koss as originally planned.

Soval had not voiced any opposition to this plan since to do so would tip his hand. But T'Pol's words had stung him in a very Vulcan way. He told himself there was more at stake than the happiness of one person, even if that person was his ward, a child for whom he held great affection despite her innate ability to vex him and his emotional control.

Because she did not know the entire story, because she was not aware of her mother's activities and what they might lead to for V'Las and his followers, T'Pol had every right to believe that her _en'ahr'at_ was indeed without honor. It. . .grieved him that she would think that, yet his actions, at least those she could see, justified her opinion of him.

His situation was rapidly becoming intolerable.

STE

Malcolm Reed made his way quietly to his office near the bridge. As a paranoid ex-spy type, Malcolm always had ways of communicating that couldn't be traced. He had other tricks up his sleeve as well, but that one was the most important for today.

He secured his office door with a code that even Archer couldn't override, then entered a code into a terminal that by-passed the _Enterprise_ communications systems, going straight to the antennae array.

He paused for a moment before entering the address. Was this the right thing to do? Would the man he was calling even care? Would he be angry?

In the end Reed decided that didn't matter. T'Pol was not only in a pickle, this might be an excellent opportunity to get more information about the Syranites. He snorted in amusement as he recalled Janos' referring to them as Syrians. It was an easy mistake. Perhaps T'Pol would know something about them, and would be willing to share with him after he allowed her to use his private com arrangement.

And, ultimately, that was what fueled his decision to activate the unit before him. He needed help and there really was only one place he could get it.

STE

"T'Pol," T'Les' face betrayed no surprise but her eyes showed it none-the-less. "It is agreeable to see you, daughter."

"I have no time for our usual fencing exchanges," T'Pol said at once. "This is a completely secure channel but it is limited. I am told that I am expected to marry Koss or else you will suffer. Is that true, and why you?"

This time T'Les' face did betray her surprise.

"You were not to learn of this," T'Les replied. "You have a duty to marry Koss and that was all that you needed to know."

"I have a duty to myself," T'Pol replied. "I have no interest in a marriage to Koss. Nor do I appreciate being blackmailed into a marriage that Koss himself broke because I could not drop everything and come to him when he demanded it of me. Are you guilty of some crime that can be held against you by Minister Kovek on Koss' behalf, mother?"

"And if I am?" T'Les struck what, for a Vulcan, was a defiant pose. Which meant she lifted her head perhaps three millimeters higher.

"Then that is your concern and none of mine," T'Pol said flatly. "Why must I pay the penalty for your illegal activities, if they are indeed illegal?"

"It is not just me, daughter," T'Les replied. "There is a great deal of animosity over your part in the destruction of P'Jemm. Many believe that you should have been censured for your part in it. Still should be."

"I did that which was correct," T'Pol replied. "Vulcan was in violation of a treaty with Andoria. A violation that could have lead to war. _Would_ have, without the intervention of Captain Archer. I have done nothing worthy or deserving of censure unless we are now punishing correct actions as well as blackmailing women into marriage to protect their mothers from their own actions."

"I have not said I was guilty of anything," T'Les pointed out. "I have been accused, yes. And yes, it led to my removal from the Science Academy. When you marry Koss, the charges will be dropped and my position restored. All will be as it should be."

"I will not marry Koss," T'Pol said flatly. "There is no logic in this. I will not be blackmailed into accepting a mate who broke our betrothal himself. Such a one is an unworthy mate and I will not have him."

"You will honor your agreement, T'Pol," T'Les said sternly. "Much depends on you in this."

"Your job and reputation?" T'Pol asked, eyebrow raised. "You have not answered my question. Are you guilty of crimes for which you can be punished?"

"Yes," T'Les said flatly. "I follow the Syranite way and it has become known. I am watched at all times. If I can find a way to slip away I can disappear and join the others since I can no longer aide them. But your marriage to Koss will place me back in a position where I can be of service to the cause once more."

"The cause?" T'Pol's eyebrow was almost into her hairline by now. "What cause it this?" she demanded, looking at the stop watch. Four minutes left.

"Syran carries the _katra_ of Surak,' T'Les told her. "He also carries with it the location of the true _kishara_ , written by Surak himself. The revelation of that work will be the undoing of V'Las' reign on Vulcan."

T'Pol could not imagine anything her mother could have said that would have stunned her more.

"So it is essential that you marry Koss," T'Les continued.

"So I lose my future, my career, my freewill to your obsession with a lunatic in the wilds of the Forge," T'Pol said softly. "You would use me in such a way as to aide your compatriots no matter the cost to me."

"The needs of the many, T'Pol," T'Les quoted. "You will play your part."

"I will consider it," T'Pol replied. She checked the watch. One minute.

"Farewell, mother," she said without fanfare and cut the signal, stopping the watch with fifty-five seconds remaining.

T'Pol sat back, considering the revelations her mother had just made. Anyone who knew her would have recognized the look of stunned disbelief on her face as she assimilated all she had been told.

Anyone who did not know her would have assumed she was bored.

STE

"The last ship is disabled, milord," Julio reported. "Boarding operations are ongoing. Jason reports that the station is now secure. He also reports that he has several people who were being held, possibly for auction." He looked up, his face contorted with anger.

"Some of them are children."

"Order him to kill any Orions still on the station, saving one of the administrators. I need one of them who can talk. Walking isn't a requirement, though."

"Aye, milord," Julio turned to relay the good news.

"Status, Kron," Trip ordered.

"All systems are at one hundred percent, milord," Kron replied at once. "We are not an under armed freighter. They are nothing when faced with true warriors."

"Agreed," Trip nodded. "Any slaves on any of those ships?" Trip asked Talaran. She checked her monitor and then looked at Julio who shook his head.

"There are two ships we have yet to board, sir," she reported finally. "The others are clear save for their crews. No prisoners are present on the vessels."

"Kron," Trip said simply.

Fire lashed out from Reaper, tearing into the Orion ships. Trip's com buzzed.

" _I could use a hand down here_!" Tala Thy'lek, his chief engineer called just a bit snidely. " _We're transporting people onto the ship pretty quick and there's just me and two of my people down here. Sir_ ," she added almost as an afterthought.

"Tragon," Trip called. "Take your men and report to the transporter bay. Let's make sure we don't get a Trojan horse on board."

" _Understood_ ," the reply came at once.

"Jason is reporting that the station is empty of all innocents. No one left but Orions and their customers, milord," Julio said. "Charges are set, milord," he added a few seconds later.

"Get 'em back," Trip ordered. "Get everybody back. Five minutes." Julio started issuing orders to all away teams as Tana'ran worked her scanners.

"Problem?" Trip asked, looking at the young Andorian female. Her antennae were gesturing a bit wildly.

"One of those ships is losing containment I think, sir," she replied. "I'm reading power output that's far too high."

"Estimate to critical?" Trip asked.

"No more than five minutes sir," she supplied after a few seconds. "I'd be cautious using that number, sir,' she added.

"Understood. Keep and eye on it. Julio, tell everyone to step it up. We gotta go."

Transporters and shuttles were working overtime bringing freed prisoners and strike teams back on board. Trip was mildly concerned about the near critical ship, but not overly so. As long as his people were back on board before it went, _Reaper_ would be fine. In fact, he wondered if the tractor beam-

"Milord, there's a communication incoming for you," Julio broke into his thoughts.

"Little busy, Julio," Trip shook his head. "Take a message."

"Sir, it's Commander Reed," Julio told him. "Using a burner," he added. Burners were an invention of Givens', harkening back to the days of early twenty-first century Earth. A one time com unit that would be useless after a few minutes.

"Ready room," Trip snapped, already moving that way. "Dru'hak, please continue the operation. Kron you may destroy all ships still in one piece, but don't hit the one Tana'ran is watching. We'll let it cook off on it's own if it will. Make sure the station goes," he added as he disappeared into this ready room.

STE

Neera was sitting behind the counter of the book store when the man entered. Unlike the previous individual he walked straight to the counter and presented credentials.

"My name is Harwick," he said, showing her a badge from Starfleet Security Forces. "I have some questions for you."

"Be glad to help you any way I can," Neera smiled, laying her book aside. "What are you looking for?"

"I'm not interested in books," Harwick's eyes hardened slightly. "A man came in here several days ago and then disappeared. You were reportedly working that day. I want to know what became of him."

"You'll have to be more specific than that," Neera frowned. "What day was it? What did he look like? And what do you mean disappeared?"

"It was Tuesday last," Harwick replied. "He was average height, medium build, dark hair."

"Oh, you mean Commander Reed?" Neera smiled. "He's July's gentleman caller. He met her here Tuesday when he came on leave. I think they went to the beach, maybe. He's gone back to work now, though," she added. "Anything else?"

"I'm not talking about Commander Reed," Harwick's voice grew slightly harder. "I'm talking about the man who followed him in here."

"Oh, the rude guy with the bad PADD," Neera nodded. "Man, what an ass."

"You remember him?" Harwick asked.

"If it's the guy you're looking for, yeah. He browsed a while then pulled his PADD out. Couldn't get a line and started making all kinds of fuss. I tried mine and it worked so I told him it was probably his PADD and to recycle it, you know? He got mad at me for telling him how to operate his PADD and stormed out in a huff. Rude," she shook her head.

"So he left here, alone?" 'Harwick' stressed, his voice sharper than before.

"Yeah, in a big rush, too," Neera nodded. She was proud of herself. She was really acting the part today. "I hate to talk bad about anybody but. . .that guy was an ass. I mean it's not like it's my fault if he can't operate a PADD!"

"You're sure he left here under his own power?" 'Harwick' demanded.

"What do you mean, 'under his own power?'" Neera frowned.

"He wasn't coerced into leaving?"

"Well, no," Neera replied slowly. "I mean it takes more than just somebody being rude for us to kick 'em out, like. But he left mad anyway. I offered him mine if it was important, but he acted like he didn't hear me."

"I don't suppose you have surveillance footage in here?" Harwick asked, looking around for cameras.

"No," Neera shook her head. "Never needed 'em. Nobody usually wants to steal books," she chuckled. "Not many of us read 'em anymore."

"Thank you," 'Harwick' said. Without another word he turned and exited the building. Neera went back to her book, feet propped on the counter.

Behind the book she tapped out a message to Jerl McCann, waited for a reply, and then continued to read.

STE

"Malcolm, this better be important," Trip said as soon as Reed's face appeared on the screen. "I'm right in the middle o' somethin' here."

"Sorry, but yeah, this might be important." Reed spent five minutes filling Trip in on the situation as he knew it. By the time he finished Trip's face was set in a hard line.

"How far are you out of Vulcan?" he asked.

"Another two days, tops," Malcom replied.

"Keep on doin' what you're doin'. Let me know if anything changes. I gotta go."

"Wait, Trip, are you-"

But Trip was already gone.

"Bloody Yanks."

STE

Trip felt _Reaper_ go to warp even as he returned to the bridge.

"Status?" he queried at once.

"All secure, milord," Dru'hak replied. "Station and all ships destroyed. We have two prisoners who may yield valuable information. We are also carrying ninety-three former captives of various races. Mostly female outside some male children."

"Any of 'em Vulcan?" Trip asked.

"Yes, actually," Dru'hak frowned. "How did you know?"

"Don't matter. Jerry, set course for Vulcan, Warp 7. Julio get me a line to the station. I need to talk to Kov. Don't care what he's doin', tell 'im to drop it and come talk to me." With that Trip returned to his ready room, leaving a surprised bridge crew in his wake.

STE

"Yes, there is a way," Kov nodded. "It's. . .there is an element of risk," he warned.

"Like what?" Trip asked. "Startin' a war or something?"

"No, not that bad," Kov actually laughed. "There is a thing called the Kalifee, Trip. It's where a male challenges another male for the right to the female. It's rarely done anymore but it is the law. It cannot be refused."

"At all?" Trip asked, leaning forward a bit.

"Well, if the challenge were to be simply ridiculous I'm sure the Executor would disallow it. But honestly, it's such an old and ironclad custom that no one would likely interfere."

"Can a human make that challenge?" Trip asked, a plan forming.

"Well, I know of no law that says you can't," Kov admitted after a moment of thought. "Give me an hour and I'll find out."

"Calmly now," Trip warned. "I don't want anyone getting wind of this."

"Don't worry," Kov assured him. "I just need to do some reading."

STE

"How is your mother?" Reed asked as he took a seat once more in his cabin.

"She is indeed in trouble," T'Pol almost sighed. "She is a member of a cult known as the Syrranites. They are outlaws, dedicated to the restoration of the Surakian way of life as opposed to that which is now in place."

Reed managed by a monumental effort to conceal his shock. Could it be this easy? Surely not.

"I. . .I may have heard of them," he frowned as if thinking. "I had not realized they were a cult. Or outlaws for that matter," he added. "I did hear that there was dissension on Vulcan, but honestly I wrote it off as just talk."

"It is not just talk," T'Pol confirmed. "Their leader, Syrran, claims to bear the _katra_ of Surak himself. How he might have come into possession of it is a mystery to me. He claims also to know the resting place of the original _Ki'shara_ , the writings of Surak that led Vulcan onto the path of logic."

"What is a _katra_?" Reed asked.

"The life force, the very essence or memories of a Vulcan who has died," T'pol replied evenly. "Such are normally stored in katric arcs, but on occasion they are passed to another living being shortly before death. Syrran claims to have that of Surak."

"I take it that if he does, that would be a big deal, then," Reed said seriously. "I can't imagine carrying the essence of another being," he shook his head.

"Yes, and the restoration of the original _kishara_ would be an even bigger 'deal'," T'Pol nodded. "This group would be able to topple the V'Las government."

"I take it that is not a good thing."

"On the contrary," T'Pol did sigh this time. "It would be the best thing for Vulcan since Surak, so long as it did not result in civil war. V'Las' regime is corrupt from the bottom up, Commander. He has long dominated Vulcan and our way of life by giving lip service to Surak but no more than that. He makes a mockery of what it is to be Vulcan."

"So your mother is doing a good thing?" Reed asked.

"So it would seem," T'Pol agreed. "And in order for her to continue, I must marry Koss." The weight of that reality settled on her heavily.

"You're going to do it?" Reed asked.

"It is my duty to aid my mother in any way I can," T'Pol nodded, rising. "I must thank you, Commander, for your assistance in this matter. It is gratifying to have someone I can trust in."

"I'm flattered you consider me such a person," Reed replied sincerely, rising along with her. "If I can help, you have but to ask."

"I fear there is no help beyond that which you have already given," T'Pol told him. "For that I am in your debt. If you will excuse me, I need to meditate."

"Of course," Reed stood aside to allow his senior officer to exit the room.

STE

"There is nothing in the law to prevent a human from challenging for a female," Kov said. "Nothing. I'm sure no one ever thought it necessary to include it. The law simply states 'male', and nothing else." He leaned forward.

"Trip, are you planning to participate in a Kalifee?"

"Lookin' that way," Trip nodded absently. "Friend o' mine is bein' forced into something she don't wanna do. This might be a way to get her out of it."

"Kalifee is mortal combat, Trip," Kov warned. "Loser dies."

"Good." Trip's voice was flat. "She's bein' blackmailed into this, Kov. That ain't right, I don't care who ya are or what the reason is."

"I agree, and such is extremely dishonorable," Kov said at once. "How far are you from Vulcan? And how do you plan to get to the surface?"

"We just destroyed an Orion slave station," Trip replied, "and we're carrying some Vulcan women, and maybe children, I ain't checked. They need to be repatriated."

"Indeed," Kov's eyebrows rose at that.

"We should be there in two days," Trip continued after checking his ship's position.

"I can be there by then," Kov told him suddenly. "I can help you, I think. I'll meet you in orbit."

"Kov, ain't it maybe dangerous for you to go to Vulcan?" Trip asked.

"Not as such," Kov smiled gently. "You will remember our meeting on _Enterprise_?"

"Yeah."

"You convinced me to contact my father, if you recall," Kov smiled. "My father who has now recovered from his illness and occupies a position on the High Council. He can be of help in the repatriation of your freed captives, which will serve nicely as a method of getting you onto the planet."

"He's part of Vulcan's High Command?" Trip asked.

"No," Kov shook his head. "He is part of the High _Council_ , what _should_ be the ruling council of all Vulcan. Their power has been usurped to a great extent under V'Las' regime, but. . .he is still powerful."

"Okay," Trip nodded. "Just don't put yourself in a bad spot doin' this."

"I am assuming that the 'friend' you're helping is Commander T'Pol," Kov said rather than asked.

"Yeah, it is," Trip admitted.

"Commander T'Pol has suffered greatly at the hands of V'Las," Kov's voice hardened. "She deserves our help. And this will also, I hope, make up for my, for _our_ , not realizing what Tolaris was." Kov's eyes were hard now.

"Fair enough," Trip understood now. "See you in two days. Oh," he thought of something. "Anything in that law says what I have to fight with?"

He waited as Kov perused his PADD. After ten minutes Kov looked up, shaking his head.

"No, merely that it must be hand-to-hand. I suspect you could fight unarmed if you wished though I'd advice against it. It is likely your opponent would use a _lirpa_."

"Reckon I'll use something else," Trip smiled thinly. "Two days, brother."

"Two days," Kov nodded and the screen went blank.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Jonathon Archer looked at T'Pol for so long that she was about to decide he had not heard her speak.

"T'Pol, I. . .there has to be something we can do!" he finally broke his silence.

"There is no recourse open to me, Commodore," T'Pol told him flatly. "I either do this, or my mother suffers for it. And others will suffer because of her. This is how it must be."

"I'll call Admiral Forrest," Archer said suddenly. "You're part of Starfleet now, T'pol. There has to be something we can do!"

"Admiral Forrest will not risk his relationship, Earth's relationship, with Vulcan over me, Commodore. The one person I thought would always support me has likewise withdrawn his support. I have been, as your people would say, overtaken by events. There is more at work here than just my mother. This is also punishment for my part in exposing P'Jemm. And in refusing to follow orders to abandon you before the Expanse mission." She paused.

"I am not what Vulcan considers a model citizen." Her face almost showed a wry smile, Archer decided.

"No offense to your people, Commander, but I couldn't care less what Vulcan thinks of you or anyone else, especially anyone on this ship and that's part of my crew," Archer's voice was almost savage. "I'm sick to death of the load of shit we have to eat to keep people like V'Las and Soval happy. I know you and he are close," Archer caught himself. "I'm sorry. I meant what I said, but I shouldn't have said it. Not in front of you."

"Do not concern yourself," T'Pol replied evenly. "I fear your assessment of the Ambassador is unfortunately accurate."

"I still should have caught it, if just out of respect for you," Archer mumbled. "T'Pol, surely there's some way I can help you, after all you've done for us!"

"There is no real choice, Commodore," T'Pol gave an eloquent shrug, something that Archer had never seen her do. "As I said, this situation is the culmination of many things, several of which are directly attributable to me. As Commander Tucker might have said, I must now compensate the violinist."

"Pay the fiddler, T'Pol," Archer grinned in spite of himself. "You have to pay the fiddler."

"That is what I said," T'Pol nodded. The two of them stood there for a moment, almost basking in the memory of Trip Tucker, as if just mentioning him made him somehow be present.

"Trip would be the first one screaming this wasn't right," Archer told her. "And looking for a way to get you out of it."

"I know," T'Pol said softly. "But there would be nothing he could do."

"There's no need for you to stand a shift if you don't want to, T'Pol," Archer said suddenly. "Take the time to yourself and do as you please. If you want to work, you can, but if you want to do something else, do it. We'll cover your bridge watch."

"Thank you, Commodore."

STE

Malcolm Reed was fuming. T'Pol was getting a dirty deal and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. He had thought contacting Trip would be enough to get him involved, and maybe it had but he'd had no contact with him since that one brief call. He didn't dare try him again. Reed had used another of Givens' 'burners' to contact Janos with the information about the Syrranites. He had only three left. He couldn't wasted them on something so minor.

Not that he considered it minor. Still, he could only hide so many of the com units, and he might need them worse later on.

So all he could do was sit and stew in his anger and wonder if Trip was going to reveal himself over this, and if Janos could use the information he had given him.

STE

"I don't see how this is our problem, sir," McCann said after reading the latest intel on the Syrranite issues Vulcan was having.

"I wish it were that simple," Janos sighed. "Upheaval on Vulcan cannot help but be troublesome for us, Jerl, at least in the short run."

"I'm not arguing that, sir," McCann shook his head. "But this is on Vulcan. Completely out of our sphere of influence. We don't have anything there, and we have only two people on the planet, hidden in with the embassy personnel. I just don't see how we can affect the outcome. That's all I'm saying."

"Has Charles been in contact?" Janos asked.

"Yes. He's already destroyed one Orion station, destroyed I think eleven ships and freed almost one hundred captives."

"Where is he now?"

"On his way to Vulcan," McCann said, then groaned. "Oh, no."

"Now you see why we need to be up to date on this," Janos almost smiled. "Malcolm called him about T'Pol, but Charles said nothing to him about what he planned to do. But now he has freed captives and is headed to Vulcan. Would you care to wager if any of those captives were Vulcan?"

"No," McCann shook his head. "I wouldn't. And it's a good way to get on planet," McCann nodded.

"Exactly," Janos nodded. "Call Prim and warn him we may see Vulcan warships that may or may not be friendly," Janos said at once. "It's entirely possible that Charles is about to start a war." He almost grinned.

"You don't seem too concerned," McCann frowned.

"I'm not."

STE

"You are driven, milord," Kron remarked as he and Trip took a breather from their training. Dru'hak stood nearby, supervising.

"I got somethin' I gotta do in a few days," Trip admitted, taking a long pull on a water bottle. "Admit it's got me distracted."

"We will be on Vulcan tomorrow," Dru'hak said unnecessarily. "Does that have anything to do with what you must do?"

"It does," Trip nodded, then finished off the water bottle. "Friend o' mine is in a pinch. I don't aim to let her get pinched."

"Would this friend be a Vulcan, perhaps?" Dru'hal almost smiled.

"It might," Trip looked at his older friend. "Why?"

"No reason at all, milord," Dru'hak replied. "Merely curious."

"When we get there, I want all critical systems manned at all times," he ordered suddenly. "While I'm on the planet run 'port and starboard'. I know it won't be popular, but I'll make it up. Tell the crew that once this unpleasantness is dealt with we'll make for Risa. Five days leave all around in two shifts."

"That should prevent most complaints," Kron snorted in amusement. Port and Starboard was an old Earth 'wet' navy term for Condition Two 'steaming', meaning one half of the crew at battle stations for four to six hour shifts while the other half ate, slept and performed critical maintenance. It was hard on man and machine.

"They earned it," Trip shrugged. "And we might get a line on another station while we're there."

"I will do so, milord," Dru'hak nodded. "You expect trouble, I take it?"

"It's Vulcan," Trip snorted. "I always expect trouble."

STE

"Jon, I understand your problem, but this is some kind of internal matter with them and there's nothing we can do about it," Forrest said.

"So we just abandon T'Pol, after all she did for us?" Archer demanded. "The one Vulcan who helped us?"

"We don't have the muscle or the influence to stop it, Jon," Forrest admitted in a rare outbreak of honesty. "I wish we did. I really do. I like T'Pol. But I'd already been informed of this just before you called, with orders to stay out of it. And to tell you the same thing."

"This is wrong," Archer almost growled. "So wrong."

"I agree," Forrest surprised him. "I hate it. I just can't do anything about it. And I'm ordering you not to try anything, either. Don't leave the ship while you're there unless you're invited to the embassy or some other function. And if you go down, you keep your mouth shut, understand? The last thing we need is a diplomatic incident. I know how this sucks, Jon. All I can say is that someday we'll get ours back. I don't know how, but we will. Right now, though, the Vulcans hold the cards."

"What if I'm invited to the wedding?" Jon asked.

"You extend your regrets but duty compels you to stay aboard ship for the time being," Forrest had that one figured out already. "I mean it, Jon. We can't afford an incident. Please." Forrest's earnestness surprised Archer.

"All right," he said grudgingly. "I still say this is a piss poor way to treat someone we owe so much to."

"I agree," Forrest nodded. "I still don't have any choice, and neither do you. Forrest clear." The screen went blank and then displayed the Starfleet logo.

"Damn it."

STE

"I have decided to marry Koss," T'Pol told Soval without fanfare. "I have spoken to my mother. It appears that this is a plot to punish me for events that were beyond my control. You have been duplicitous with me, as has my mother. I do not appreciate that, but neither can I stop it. Know that whatever affection I had for you is gone. Know that the same is true of my mother. So far as I am concerned you are dead to me. I ask you to respect that and do not offer to speak with me again outside our professional relationship. For my mother there will be no need to speak to me at all after my wedding. I will not serve under your command ever again, nor will I answer to you in any capacity from this day forth."

Without waiting for a reply from the older Vulcan, T'Pol exited the visitors quarters and returned to her own, leaving Soval stunned and almost angry. Stunned by her abrupt withdrawal from his presence and angry at her having declared him dead to her. On Vulcan such a move was reserved for a member of a clan who had acted in such a disreputable manner as to be a shame to his or her clan.

T'Pol was telling her Guardian, what the humans would call her Godfather, that she was ashamed of his behavior. Of his duplicity in the meddling of her personal life as well as her professional life.

He found that the last three hours spent in meditation had been wasted.

STE

Once T'Pol settled onto the floor with a single candle and began her attempts to meditate, she finally allowed herself the pleasure of reviewing the last several hours of her life. Until now she had clamped down on her emotional control, thanking Delana Grix (wherever she was now) once more for the repairs to her neural pathways.

Something Commodore Archer had said came to her mind and would not leave. If Commander Tucker were here, he would be trying to find a way to get her out of the mess that others had created.

 _Yes, he would do that_ , T'Pol thought to herself, and an image of Tucker's smiling face came to her mind unbidden. Charles Tucker was, above all else, an honorable man. He would not stand for something like this.

 _It is too bad that people like Charles die young while those with so little honor live long and prosper._ That thought stayed with her for a very long time as she tried unsuccessfully to enter meditation.

But it would not come.

STE

"Kov for you, milord," Julio called.

"Ready room," Trip ordered, already moving. He was seated in mere seconds.

"I'm in orbit over Vulcan," Kov said without preamble. "How many of the freed slaves were Vulcan?" he asked.

"Twenty-three," Trip replied. "Seventeen women and six children. All are in pretty fair shape physically, but I don't know about mentally. Emotionally. None of them want to speak to Delana much about 'private Vulcan matters'," Trip grimaced.

"As I suspected," Kov nodded. "We will transfer them to _Argonaut_ when you arrive. The ship is capable of atmospheric flight and will eliminate the need for shuttling. I have already contacted my father, and he will have appropriate authorities standing by, including Vulcan healers. He will meet us at landing."

"We should be there in two hours," Trip nodded. "We slowed just a little to make sure you got there ahead of us."

"Good idea," Kov nodded. "All the arrangements have been made. I have said nothing of the other matters."

"Good deal," Trip nodded.

"I have spent much of the voyage studying the laws," Kov stated. "There is a ceremonial way for you to challenge the rival. I will teach you what you must do, and how. If you don't do things correctly it could cause a problem."

"I'll do whatever you tell me," Trip promised.

"Then I'll see you shortly, my friend."

STE

"Enter," Archer called absently when his door chimed. He turned as the door opened and instantly regretted giving permission to enter as he faced Ambassador Soval.

"Commodore Archer, I understand we are about to enter orbit over Vulcan," the older man said.

"Yes," Archer managed not to grind the word out.

"I must inform you that T'Pol will be leaving you when we-"

"Yes, we're aware of your little shotgun wedding, Soval," Archer did grind that out. "Anything else?"

"I understand your anger, Commodore, but do not forget-"

"There's no possible way for you to understand my anger, Soval," Jon had had enough of that talk. "Simply not possible. I always knew that you were low, you've certainly proven that often enough. Your hatred for humanity is palpable, though I have no idea what we've done to you to deserve it. I mean other than not being Vulcan."

"But no, there is no possible way for you to understand my anger, my entire crew's anger, over your treatment of the one Vulcan who had to courage to stand with us against the Xindi when we faced annihilation. T'Pol, her name and her memory, will be revered among mankind for as long as I can make it possible."

"I'm under orders to be nice to you, but I'm feeling a bit mutinous at the moment, so unless there's something else, feel free to find your way the hell out of here."

Soval regarded Archer in silence for a moment, realizing that he had, indeed, not truly understood the depths of the human's anger. The thing that made the greatest impression on him, however, was that this anger was on behalf of T'Pol, a Vulcan.

"Your affection for T'Pol does you credit, Commodore," he said gently. "It shows a growth that I did not think you capable of."

"No, the fact that I haven't dumped you out an airlock on the trip here shows growth," Archer replied flatly. "You've got all the cards for now, Soval. We have to play the game by your rules because somehow you've made sure of that. But mark me well. One day that will change. And when it does, don't think for a second that I won't remember every slight and slur. Not to me, because frankly your opinion of me is just about as important as the weather report on Andoria to me."

"But for my people, and for someone like T'Pol who has the moral courage to do what's right instead of what's 'logical', instead of what's 'expected', for them I'll remember. Whatever god you may kneel before, Soval, be it logic, Surak, or a graven image of some kind, you better ask that our positions are never reversed. Now, I'm sure I'm keeping you from stabbing someone who trusted you in the back. Unless you require me in my official capacity, feel free to get out."

With that he turned his back on Soval and returned to gazing out the portal at the starfield. His mood was dark of late, and he found himself thinking that he would soon be out of Starfleet.

There were other ways to make the Vulcans pay. Holding public office, for example. While being a mere starship Captain might not be the best job qualification for high office, negotiating a truce with three of the five Xindi races just might be. At least a start, anyway.

And there was the promise of technological exchanges with the Xindi as well. Not to mention the Andorians, who hated Vulcan with a passion normally reserved for ex-lovers.

Archer had always had a dream of uniting many races under a single banner in order to share knowledge and explorations, to see new worlds and meet new beings. He had always envisioned Vulcan being a part of that, probably because they'd always been a part of everything else.

But now Jonathon Archer was starting to see that it was possible to do something without Vulcan. Something like what Trip had done.

Something _new_.

He didn't hear Soval let himself out.

STE

"This way, ladies," Trip said formally, leading the Vulcan women and children freed from the Orion Syndicate outpost to the airlock where _Argonaut_ , one of Kov's new freighters, was waiting for them.

"We are indebted to you, human," one older Vulcan woman said quietly, her bearing and tone as regal as any Queen Earth had ever seen. "May I have your name, that you may be remembered properly?"

"My people call me Grim, ma'am," Trip said evenly. "It's more of a title than a name. Started in jest, really, but it became something more over time. My real name was left behind. And you don't have to remember me, ma'am," he smiled softly. "I'm happy we could do it. And once we've finished here, you have my word we'll be looking for others. I don't know that we can find the others that may have been in your party, but we will be looking."

"You seem to be at war with the Syndicate," the woman regarded him carefully.

"I am," Trip nodded. "When I'm finished, there won't _be_ a Syndicate. There may not be any Orions, either. Or Naussicans for that matter. Slavery is barbaric, ma'am, and I intend to put an end to it. One way or another."

"Take care, Grim, that thy fire doest not burn thee as well as thy foes. Keep thyself apart from their ways and remain thyself, lest they be victorious, even in defeat." With that she continued on her way, disappearing into the airlock and moving into the _Argonaut_.

"What was that all about?" Julio asked, having been standing nearby.

"Just thanking me," Trip shrugged, still digesting the words. "And offering me some advice."

"Ah," Julio nodded. "I couldn't catch some of it. Sounded like some of what she said was what they refer to as High Vulcan."

"What?" Trip looked at him. "What'd'ya mean?"

"I didn't know you spoke Vulcan, bossman," Julio said.

"I don't, other than a few words here and there I picked up from T'Pol and Kov," Trip told him. "She was speaking Earth standard."

"No, boss, she wasn't," Julio shook his head, looking at his boss very strangely. "She was speaking a very old dialect of Vulcan. One they don't much use outside certain ceremonies these days."

Trip was still looking at him oddly when Kov appeared in the airlock.

"Ready?"

"Huh?" Trip looked at him, mind still processing what Julio had said. "Yeah, yeah, gimme just a minute to brief Dru'hak and I'll be ready to go. Should we take any security with us?"

"No, we won't need them," Kov replied.

Trip turned to find Dru'hak approaching him. The Klingon had made a fine XO since Neera had gone. He was also Trip's friend.

"Milord," the towering warrior nodded. "Do you know how long you will be gone?"

"No, nor when I might get back," Trip admitted. "This is gonna be tricky to say the least. I've got a transponder beacon on me and I want you to keep it locked in. There's the possibility that I'll need you to beam me out. Me and maybe someone else, too."

"If there is the possibility of danger some of us should accompany you," Dru'hak noted.

"Can't," Trip shook his head. "Like I said, this is tricky. I'm tryin' to help T'Pol without it ruining her life more than helpin' us already has. She deserves better than to be treated like this. It's possible that this is gonna cause a problem. That's why I want you on the port and starboard swing while this plays out. It's not beyond the realm of possibility that the Vulcans would attack the ship."

"That would be terrible," Dru'hak tried to keep from smiling but failed miserably.

"I'd prefer it not come to that," Trip snorted. "But don't risk a single member of this crew on it not happening. If they brace you, defend yourself and call me at once. We might have to modify this plan on the run, so to speak."

"It will be done," Dru'hak nodded. "Good hunting, my Lord," he added.

"Yeah."

STE

"It is completely illogical to utilize two shuttle craft," Soval intoned, knowing that it would serve no purpose.

"You and the two EU diplomats are going to the embassy," Jon informed him civilly. "We are taking T'Pol to a place of her choosing along with an honor guard. Our way of saying farewell and thank you, since she requested we not have a ceremony for her leaving. For the time being I still command this ship, and that is how it's going to be." His voice was firm and brooked no argument.

"The President will hear about this," one of the State suits hissed.

"He sure will," Archer nodded. "Probably when I announce my candidacy for his office," he added with a sinister smile. Even Soval looked stunned at that. Jon didn't miss the look, and turned an outright smirk on the Vulcan ambassador.

"Life's on a wheel, Ambassador," he said evenly. "It always comes back around. Have a safe trip down." With that he turned and left the shuttle bay as the crew prepared to depart.

"What did he mean by that?" one Suit asked the other.

"If he's serious, this could be a problem," the other Suit almost whimpered.

"Explain," Soval managed not to snap.

"Archer's famous," Suit Two replied. "He's the most visible face in the Starfleet program _and_ the hero of the Xindi campaign. If he really does intend to announce he's running for office, there are _millions_ of people who will jump on board his platform as soon as he gives the word."

"You're saying he could actually win the office of President?" Soval had to fight to keep his shock and disbelief from showing.

"I'm saying that there's almost no way he can _lose_!"

STE

"Captain, we're getting a hail from the Embassy," Hoshi called as Jon made his way back to where T'Pol was waiting for Travis to ferry her down to Vulcan. "It's priority one," she added.

"On my way," he called and picked up the pace. Priority One from and embassy meant something big was happening. It wasn't wasted on an ambassador complaining about having a shuttle to himself on the trip down. Besides, Soval had only been gone five minutes.

"On screen," he ordered as soon as he got to the bridge. Jon was surprised to see the EU ambassador to Vulcan himself appear on the screen, and even more surprised to note the man's dirty and sweat stained face.

"Sir, what's wrong?" Jon blurted, forgetting protocol.

"Commodore, approximately ten minutes ago a bomb was detonated inside the embassy," the ambassador told him flatly. "It's right at noon local here, and the concourse was packed with people on their way to or from lunch. I'm afraid the casualty count is going to be high."

"What do you need from us, sir?" Jon asked immediately. "We're in orbit and can get a team away in minutes. Ambassador Soval and the State Department representatives are already on their way."

"We need any help you can provide, both with security and with the injured," the ambassador replied. "And we need as soon as possible."

"I'll have a security team and our doctor on the way in five minutes, sir," Jon promised. "Is there anything else I can do?"

"If your ship can spare you, it might be helpful to have you here," the ambassador admitted. "Your presence alone would ease the concerns of a great many people. I know there's really nothing you can do, Commodore, but. . .honestly, a strong military presence to reassure those who are panicking, or on the verge of it might help."

"I'm not military, sir," Jon pointed out. "Never have been."

"To Earth, you are," the ambassador countered. "You and your crew are the protectors of Earth, Commodore. I know none of you are comfortable with that and I don't mean to put you on the spot, but perhaps in this one instance it won't hurt to pander to it? I can't order you to of course, but it might help."

"Of course, ambassador," Jon replied. "We'll be on our way as soon as we can get loaded. Can we land in the compound?"

"Yes, the pad is clear except for shuttles carrying wounded to the hospitals. I'm afraid our facilities are a bit overwhelmed."

"We'll see you soon," Archer promised and the screen went blank.

"I want Hayes and a fire team in the shuttle bay in five minutes, geared up and ready to go," he told Reed. "Hoshi, call Phlox and explain what happened. Send two men to help him carry whatever he needs to the shuttle bay. Malcolm, the ship is yours."

"Sir, I should be going with you!" Reed replied.

"T'Pol has to go," Jon reminded him. "You're now the XO, Mister Reed. Travis is flying us out. That only leaves you, Anna, and Hoshi. Neither of them have any command experience."

"And no desire to gain any," Hoshi muttered under her breath.

"I'm sorry, Malcolm, but it's got to be you."

"Aye, sir," Reed nodded. "I'll call Hayes."

Jon hurried to his quarters and grabbed his personal gear, along with the phase pistol he kept there, strictly against orders of course. Since losing his ship in the Expanse he had accepted Reed's recommendation to keep weapons at various points throughout the ship, including in all senior officer quarters. He met T'Pol on the way to the shuttle bay.

"I'm afraid you'll have to share your ride, T'Pol," Jon told her, explaining briefly what had happened.

"I will accompany you," she said at once. "I may be of assistance to Phlox in treating the injured. Also it is possible that this will not be the only device. I have experience with defusing explosives."

"I'm really going to miss you," Jon shook his head. "Good enough. We'll have to come back for your gear, or have it beamed down. Arm yourself. You're still a Starfleet officer." She nodded and made her way to the nearest weapons locker where she selected a phase pistol of her own.

Hayes and eight MACOs were waiting in the shuttle bay.

"This will be cozy," Jon muttered. "Major, we're carrying Doctor Phlox as well. I think five plus you will be the limit, and that's going to have someone sitting on the floor."

"Yes sir," Hayes nodded and detailed three of his people to stand down. "If we need them, we can let them take Pod Two down once it returns."

"Travis, I think I'll take us down with T'Pol backing me up," Jon made another command decision. "That frees up one more seat. And it will have you at the helm if Commander Reed needs you," he added.

"Yes sir," Travis nodded. If he was disappointed not to be going he hid it well.

"I have everything I think I'll need to get started," Phlox came hurrying into the bay followed by two ratings carrying supplies. "If we need anything else, Ensign Cutler will be standing by to gather what I need and can use the transporter to send it to me."

"Good idea," Jon agreed. "Get aboard everyone and get strapped in. We're on the clock, here."

Nine minutes after the ambassador's request, Pod One departed Enterprise on its way to the EU compound with Jonathon Archer himself at the controls. Forgotten was the admonishment that he was to remain aboard ship. Of course, he had been invited, so it wasn't really violating his orders.

STE

"What the hell is goin' on?" Trip muttered as the bridge of the Argonaut seemed to flutter with activity.

"There's been a bombing at the UE embassy, Trip," Kov told him quietly. "There's no exact numbers yet but the casualties appear to be heavy."

"Can we help?" Trip asked, concern in his voice.

" _Enterprise_ is in orbit and Commodore Archer is on his way down with Doctor Phlox and a security team," Kov informed him. "I doubt that we can render any aid that they could not."

"True, and I don't want Delana exposed to something like that, either," Trip mused. "A bomb on Vulcan," he shook his head. "Now I've heard it all. I wonder why, though."

"Perhaps more information can be gotten once we're down," Kov suggested. "I've had Dru'hak informed of the situation as well."

"Thank you."

"We're going to be holding for at least half an hour," Kov said. "Let's use that time to start familiarizing you with what's going to happen at the Kalifee."

"All right," Trip nodded.

"I know you are. . .different, anymore," Kov decided to say. "But will the atmosphere and gravity here slow you down? Make you weaker? Will it be harder for you to breathe, still, as it would be before. . .before," he settled for saying.

"I have no idea," Trip answered honestly. "I can call Julio and see if he knows."

 _It will not hinder you,_ Trip 'heard' inside his head.

"Never mind," he told Kov. "I've got it covered. I'll be fine." He spoke with such assurance that Kov didn't doubt him.

"Very well, then. The ceremony will follow a pattern that is centuries old. There is a specific point where you will have to sound the gong. That will be the signal that you intend to challenge for possession of the female."

"Possession?" Trip raised an eyebrow at that. "I don't want to _possess_ her, Kov."

"This is the Vulcan way, Trip," Kov pointed out. "You either do it properly or you don't do it at all. It won't work. You're an alien, an outsider, interfering in a sacred Vulcan rite. Showing some respect and doing things properly might help you win over at least some of the people watching. You can use all the support you can get."

"Point," Trip nodded. "And I didn't mean any disrespect, Kov. I'm tryin' to get T'Pol out of a mess that someone else put her in, that's all. You made it sound like she'd belong to me or something."

"By the law of Vulcan, should you win, she will," Kov nodded. "She will become yours to possess. You may claim her as a bride or you may set her free, or you may simply keep her. That is a choice few make, but some males, despite Surak's teaching, are petty and somewhat cruel. T'Pol's family has abandoned her to this fate so she will be at the mercy of the winner."

"Then I guess I better make damn sure I win, then."

STE STE STE

 _Author's note; Thanks to LoyaulteMeLie for pointing out the 'correct' or 'canon' spelling of_ _Kir'shara_ _. Since I've already got twenty chapter of this stupid thing written it may be hard to find them all and correct, so. . . .please, if you don't mind dear readers, pretend that I fixed them all and spelled it correctly. I'd really appreciate that._

 _Thanks for the reviews! Hope you're entertained, since if you're not I'm just wasting my time, lol._

BAD


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Thirty-two minutes after the call from the embassy, Jonathon Archer landed Shuttlepod One on the small pad inside the UE compound. Even from the ship the damage was apparent.

"This wasn't just a pipe bomb, sir," Hayes said over Archer's shoulder, examining the scene.

"Explain," T'Pol looked at him.

"Demo reference, ma'am," Hayes looked at her. "One of the most rudimentary explosive devices in human history is the pipe bomb. Looks just like it sounds. A piece of pipe packed with explosives that can be set off with a fuse or with det cord, or even with a timer if you know what you're doing. Metal pipe makes good shrapnel, plastic pipe hides easier and can be packed with ball bearings or other detritus that will shred anyone unlucky enough to be near it when it goes off."

"I see," T'Pol returned her gaze to the window. "Based on your explanation, I must agree with your assessment, Major. No small expedient explosive did this."

"Well, let's get out there and see if we can be of any help," Archer ordered. "Major, detail two men with Phlox. He'll be too busy to watch his own back so we do it for him. Understand?"

"Aye, sir," Hayes almost snapped to attention. He turned and started issuing orders.

"Cole, you and Wilcox are with Doc. You can assist in a pinch, but only one at a time. The Doc is your primary, read?"

"Sir," Cole nodded once and looked at Phlox. "Let's get you mobile, sir." She and Wilcox moved to assist with his equipment but it proved to be unnecessary as willing hands were waiting to help unload and lead the doctor to where he was needed.

"Major, lets see if we can find the ambassador. He may have a specific task for you. For all of us for that matter," he added. "I hate to keep splitting us up but detail one man to watch our ride."

"Already done, sir," Hayes smiled. "We're good to go." Trailed by Hayes and three other MACOs, Jon and T'Pol headed across the tarmac and toward the embassy building.

"Structural integrity is holding," Hayes remarked casually.

"Bomb was definitely AP sir," one of the MACOs said softly. "I don't see anything other than broken glass and shredded furniture."

"AP?" T'Pol asked.

"Anti-personnel, ma'am," Hayes provided. "He's referencing the lack of structural damage. This looks like a large device but there's no real structure damage. Whoever designed the device clearly wanted to hurt or kill as many as possible without bringing the building down or rendering it unusable."

"And that's a clue to who might have done it," Archer murmured.

"Yes sir, it can be," Hayes nodded.

Jon saw the ambassador first and was nearly to him before the official saw the Commodore coming.

"Commodore, I'm Gavin Ross," the tall, graying man said as he offered his hand. Ross' suit coat was nowhere in sight and his shirt was rumpled and stained with both dirt and sweat. Clearly this man didn't mind getting his hands dirty.

"Sir, our ship's physician, Doctor Phlox, is already on his way to assist with the injured," Jon said without preamble. "He has two men with him for security, and we have another MACO standing guard on the shuttle. Major Hayes and his three remaining men are available to assist with security measures wherever you need them, or with anything else. Commander T'Pol and I are willing to lend a hand wherever we can. If you need them, we can call for more help from the _Enterprise_ as well."

"That's outstanding, Commodore," Ross tried to be upbeat. "We. . .I'm afraid I don't know the current count, Commodore Archer, but the casualties are high."

"Call me Jon, sir, it's easier on the tongue," Jon smiled. "I'm sorry for your losses, sir. But then they're all of our losses, aren't they." It was a statement rather than a question.

"What can we do?"

"Commander T'Pol, I really appreciate your being here," Ross said first. "You're very highly thought of among my staff and this is just another reason why. Jon, right now we're assessing the damage and trying to evaluate the likelihood that there are more of these bombs somewhere inside or on the grounds."

"Sir, we can handle that," Hayes spoke with the quiet and calm assurance of someone who knew his business and his abilities.

"I can assist in that as well," T'Pol nodded. "Major you will take the lead as this is Earth Sovereign Territory," she added. "I will lend you any assistance I can as an observer."

"Thank you, ma'am," Hayes nodded. "Willis, you're with the Captain. He goes, you go. Bailey, Douglas, let's start a sweep. We'll establish a frame off the fountain and use it as a center point for the grid. Let's move." The four moved away leaving Jon an Gavin Ross more or less alone as Johns kept a slight distance where he could protect but not intrude.

"You're not what I was expecting, Jon," Ross admitted as they watched Hayes lead off to start the search.

"How's that, sir?" Archer turned to look at the official.

"Well, those two idiots from State were actually calling me on their ride down to complain about you," Ross's grim chuckle was completely absent any mirth. "I was expecting a prima dona of the worst kind and instead I find someone who's ready to get his hands dirty. I'm glad to be surprised."

"Well, those two and I had some sharp words I'm afraid," Jon admitted. "I don't like them and I wasn't overly shy about saying so. People like them have an over inflated sense of their own self-worth. Makes my teeth hurt."

"On any other day that would make me laugh," Ross admitted. "And they are completely clueless. One of them was even spouting off about you intending to try a coup against the President," Ross' eyebrows raised in wry amusement, but fell as Archer's face hardened.

"Ah, that was supposed to be funny," Ross added.

"I'm not planning a coup, but I am thinking seriously about running against him," Jon said flatly. "And if I win, you'd probably need a new job."

"You just met me!" Ross complained.

"Oh I'd probably find you something else to do, but it wouldn't be here," Archer shook his head. "First thing I'll do if I'm elected is close this embassy and tell Vulcan, all of Vulcan except T'Pol, to go piss up an electric cable."

Several people thought it incredibly rude as well as politically incorrect for the ambassador to be laughing like that while bodies were still being pulled from the building. Just completely wrong.

STE

Trip followed Kov down the ramp of the small freighter and out onto the concourse. _Argonaut_ was one of the new class of ships that Kov had designed that was capable of much easier atmospheric handling than most other ships of it's class. Typically ships used shuttles or transporter technology if they had it to off load cargo. There were pros and cons to both. Kov's design allowed the owner to choose either with as few of the 'cons' as possible.

"Nice ride, Kov," Trip commented as the two stopped near the base of the ramp. "I'm officially impressed."

"Of course," Kov replied and Trip was once more treated to the sight of a Vulcan smirking openly. The smirk died quickly as Kov saw a group of Vulcans approaching.

"Kov, my son, it is most agreeable to see you," the leading male spoke firmly but there was a definitely a hint of emotion creeping in. "You look well."

"Father, it is likewise agreeable to see you well," Kov was obviously fighting of a smile at the 'warm' reception from his father. "Father, may I introduce you to my colleague, Charles Anthony. Charles, Minister Kuvak of the Interior Ministry, my father." The name had been a quickly agreed on substitute using Trip's first and middle name only, something he could probably remember to respond to.

"Peace to you and long life, Charles, friend of my son," Kuvak intoned solemnly.

"Peace and long life to you as well, Minister," Trip returned the _ta'al_ without difficulty. He noted Kov looking at him quizzically but didn't say anything. Had Kov been afraid Trip would embarrass them in front of these Vulcans?

"I understand that Vulcan has you to commend for returning our people, Captain Anthony," Kuvak spoke again. "We are indebted to you."

"There is no debt, Minister," Trip replied just as gravely. "I am gratified to be able to return them to their rightful place." Kuvak's eyebrow rose at that but he nodded.

"We have healers standing by to receive them," Kuvak said. "We can remove them from your vessel without delay."

"That isn't necessary, Minister," Trip shook his head. "I would recommend that your healers first interview them in the safety of the ship. Some may have suffered trauma while in captivity but they are reluctant to discuss such things with an off worlder. Perhaps they would be more comfortable on the ship for the time being. If so, please use it for so long as it is needed."

"We have no desire to keep your ship detained here," Kuvak replied. "Surely it is a hindrance to you." Rather than answer him, Trip looked at Kov.

"The ship is mine, Father," Kov said quietly. "It will remain as long as it is needed for the people inside. I will be here for a few days in all likelihood so there is no hindrance."

"Yours?" Kuvak's eyebrow almost disappeared into his brow at that.

"It was a gift for a job well done," Kov managed to keep all but a hint of pride from his voice. "It is a fine vessel and should serve adequately for the healers to begin their work. I must concur with Charles that some of them seem to be in need of a healer's assistance. Meditation can only do so much after such a trial."

"Agreed," Kuvak nodded and turned to the three men behind him.

"Bring the healers and their assistants at once." All three departed without comment. Kuvak watched them go before turning back to his son.

"I suspect there is much unsaid if such a fine ship is a gift for a job well done," Kuvak's voice almost hinted at humor, and maybe pride.

"Minister, your son is very possibly one of the finest engineers it's ever been my privilege to know or work with," Trip said evenly. "I know the man who gifted this ship to him, and he does not reward lightly. Nor does he suffer failure or fools."

"Indeed," Kuvak regarded his son again, who was now blushing slightly at Trip's praise.

"These are things to be set aside," Kov said after a nod of thanks to 'Charles'. "There are females and adolescents who need attention and that must take priority."

"Indeed," Kuvak nodded in silent approval. "We will see to them properly, my son. What are your plans?"

"We have a private matter to investigate," Kov replied smoothly. "I am unsure of the itinerary as yet, however. The incident at the human embassy may alter that timeline greatly. We cannot know as yet."

"A terrible business," Kuvak nodded understanding. "I have no official word as yet but unofficially the casualty count is said to be high."

"We will attempt to see if any of the injured or deceased are known to us," Kov said evenly. "The ship has a small crew, all non-Vulcan. They will remain aboard and are at your service so long as you need the ship. This is a private com unit that will reach me at any time from anywhere. Should you need me you have but to call."

"It would be agreeable to share a meal with you tonight, my son," Kuvak managed not to sound as if he were eager, since that would never do.

"I do not think that will be a problem, Father," Kov nodded slowly, respectfully. "Our business will not take place for another day or perhaps two at the soonest. Today we are merely seeing if those injured or taken are those we know."

"Understood," Kuvak replied. "I will have a meal prepared at home for middle evening. Is that satisfactory?"

"Extremely so," Kov assured him. "Until then, I leave them in your care," he motioned to the ship.

"We will see to them."

Kov turned and walked away, Trip following suit. He waited until they were out of earshot to speak.

"That seemed to go well," he mentioned and Kov nodded.

"Indeed. My father was well pleased to see me, Trip. That is as good an outcome as I could have wished for."

"I'm happy for you Kov," Trip said, resisting the urge to slap his friend on the back, which simply would not do on Vulcan. Trip wished he could go and see his family. They knew that he wasn't actually dead. Janos had gotten word to them before the announcement with a request that they act suitably aggrieved at their son's passing. Maybe once his business with the Syndicate was over he could slip home and see them.

Kov led them away from the space port and to a transit system that served travelers arriving by ship. Selecting an available transport, the two rode in silence as the driver took them as close to the UE embassy as he could.

"We are perhaps a kilometer away at this point," the driver said after perhaps thirty minutes. "I will be able to go no closer than this."

"This will suffice," Kov assured him as the two exited. "Peace and long life," he intoned and received a similar response from the driver.

The walk was short but Trip caught Kov looking at him closely as they made their way toward the embassy compound.

"What?" Trip asked. "What is it?"

"I did not know you spoke Vulcan," Kov said. "Did T'Pol teach you? Your dialect is very clean."

"I don't speak Vulcan, Kov," Trip resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"You're speaking Vulcan right now," Kov replied evenly. "Almost as if you were a native. You have been since we left the ship. You spoke perfectly to my father, in fact. I could tell he was suitably impressed."

"Kov, have you taken leave of your senses?" Trip demanded. "I. Don't. Speak. Vulcan."

"Please say that again," Kov requested and held up his tri-corder.

"I don't speak Vulcan," Trip repeated, leaning into the tri-corder and saying it with great relish. The smirk on his face died as Kov played back Trip's voice saying he didn't speak Vulcan.

In fluent Vulcan.

"What the hell?" Trip's look of shock almost made Kov laugh but he caught it.

"Now that was in UE Standard," Kov nodded. "Well, your version of it, at any rate," he added with a slight grin.

"It's gotta be. . ." He stopped, aware he was about to say too much.

 _Are you doing this_? he asked his. . .himself? He didn't know.

 _I am_ , the voice assured him. _It is a small thing, to allow you to communicate better. All part of the service, as you would say_. Trip could detect a hint of mirth in the thought. His own sense of humor was starting to color his Friend's 'vocabulary'. So to speak.

 _Well, how about that_? Trip thought to himself. _That would have come in handy on Risa. Still will in fact_ , he decided with a mental smirk.

 _Indeed_. The reply reminded him that his thoughts were not always his own anymore.

"What's so funny?" Kov asked.

"Nothin'," Trip returned to the present. "Just. . .I guess it's something I picked up from T'Pol," he temporized. "She had been working with me a little, but I had no idea I was using it. Maybe bein' around all them women and kids these last two days has made it come back to me."

"Of course," Kov politely called him a liar. "Here we are," he added, seeing a barrier erected along the street. "I don't know that we can get closer without difficulty," Kov told him.

"Probably not a smart thing for me to be there anyway," Trip shrugged. "I'm s'posed to be dead, remember?"

STE

"Definitely not a IED," Hayes shook his head. "I'm picking up several mineral traces that have no business being here," he was reading his scanner. "This isn't a commercial explosive that I'm familiar with," he told T'Pol, holding the scanner where she could see it.

T'Pol was familiar with it, and felt a chill run down her spine despite enjoying the warmth of her home world once again.

"Commander?" Hayes asked, looking concerned.

"Major, please bring your scanner and follow me," T'Pol said gently. "Ask your troopers to remain here and be vigilant. Copy your data to them, just in case. They can be looking for other traces."

Hayes did as she instructed with only the barest of questioning looks. The two walked in silence to where Archer was still speaking to Ross, co-ordinating the retrieval of the bodies of UE personnel killed in the bomb by _Enterprise_ for a return home.

"Commodore, there is a problem," T'Pol spoke softly. "We must return to the shuttle pod for a moment and discuss this in private." Archer looked confused but nodded.

"The Ambassador?" he asked, and T'Pol nodded after only the barest of pauses. The four of them made their way the short distance to the shuttlepod in silence. They filed inside and closed the door as Jon activated the shuttle's environment systems to keep the shuttle from being an oven.

"What is it, T'Pol?"

STE

"There's Jon," Trip said so softly that Kov almost didn't hear him.

"Where?" he asked.

"Shuttlepod," Trip resisted the urge to point. "Him, T'Pol, that Hayes guy, and another guy. Don't know him," Trip admitted.

"Trip, that's the UE Ambassador to Vulcan," Kov chided gently.

"Well, I ain't never seen 'im," Trip shrugged. "Anyway, I'd guess they found something."

"Looks like it," Kov agreed.

STE

"I recognize this formula, Commodore," T'Pol said without fanfare. "It is a very secret compound used by the V'Shar. They are the only people who would have access to this particular explosive."

Had she accused Archer of being Andorian it was doubtful that she would have gotten a more animated response.

"What?" His shock was echoed by Hayes and Gavin Ross. All three looked at T'Pol as if she'd suddenly grown a second head.

"I worked for the V'Shar for some time," T'Pol said. "You know this, Commodore, if you will recall your assistance in retrieving the last of the operatives I had been tasked with apprehending."

"I remember," he managed not to shudder at the memory. "T'Pol are you. . .I mean of course you're sure about the compound, but. . .are you really sure that only they could have it?"

"Completely," T'Pol's voice brooked no argument. "It was developed by the V'Shar themselves and only they use it. They would never allow it to used by an outsider."

"Then why risk using is here?" Ross asked. "If we discover this, we would automatically point the finger at them because of what you've. . .told us," he slowed, frowning.

"I cannot help but notice that there are no Vulcan security agents assisting you," T'Pol spoke in her usual flat tone, but her eyes were working.

"As you said to Major Hayes, this compound is Earth Sovereign soil," Ross nodded. "They consider this an UE matter. They have offered any and all humanitarian aid of course, but made it clear that the investigation was ours to handle. We didn't think anything of it since normally it's an argument to get anything like that done without days of meetings."

"And no Vulcan would have ever seen the recorder findings if I had not been present," T'Pol nodded.

"Commander, I. . .I don't know what to do," Ross looked at Archer helplessly. "Jon, what do we do?"

"We stop and think for a minute," Jon replied at once. "We have to be very, very careful about this, sir. We're talking about an act of war if this is accurate."

"They're gonna want to lay the blame for this somewhere," Hayes spoke up for the first time. All three looked at him.

"Look, you don't do something like this, lay a frame job this clean on and kill this many people, risk a _war_ , unless you're trying to lay the blame for it on someone else. They're going to need a way to shoehorn into the investigation at some point and 'identify' the unique Vulcan compound, and then place the use of it on someone. Or some group."

"A valid point," T'Pol agreed. "I must concur, Commodore. Major Hayes makes a sound argument. There will almost certainly be an attempt to blame or discredit someone with this act. They will not know we are aware of the truth. We cannot let them know, either," she pointed out.

"T'Pol this could really put you in danger," Jon said grimly. "We can't let this get out that you told us about this-"

"Do not be concerned with me," T'Pol actually shook her head. "This is far greater than one person, Commodore. This was a deliberate act designed to kill for no acceptable purpose and no apparent return. This is unacceptable to the true Vulcan. A senseless death is a great crime in and of itself and abhorrent to the Vulcan mind."

"We don't think much of it either," Jon agreed. "But we have to be very careful. This has the potential to turn ugly in a hurry."

"The first thing is to decide who outside this shuttlepod we can trust," Hayes pointed out. "We're going to need to talk to someone about this, and that requires a very secure communications set-up. I would have said the embassy's suite but. . .after this, I'm not willing to say that."

"Any transmission we make from _Enterprise_ can be traced, and eventually cracked," Jon nodded. "I suppose if Trip were still around he could jury rig something with bailing wire and kite string that would work," he laughed bitterly. T'Pol stood straighter.

"What?" Jon asked.

"We do not have Commander Tucker, but we do have someone almost as good and equally reliable," she said firmly. "Commander Reed."

"Absolutely," Hayes backed her at once. "He's as straight as it gets, and he's got. . ." he broke off, glancing at Ross. "He's experienced enough to know how careful this has to be handled," he settled for saying.

"That's true," Jon mused. "I was trying to think of someone at home so I never even thought of Malcolm. And I need him on the ship," he admitted.

"We would have to return to _Enterprise_ to take advantage of anything Commander Reed could do to help us," T'Pol pointed out. "Such a trip would need to serve a purpose lest it draw attention," she added.

"I was going to ask for more security," Ross piped up. "And maybe a few crew members to spell our people long enough to rest and eat. You'd need to make two, maybe three trips to do all that," he added, eyebrows raised.

"That would work," Hayes nodded, standing. "Sir, you and Commander T'Pol should return to the ship while my men and I remain here. I think the Ambassador needs us now more than he did just a few minutes ago."

"Concur," T'Pol said at once. "They have already killed so many, one or two more will make no difference to them."

"All right," Jon nodded decisively. "It's as good a plan as we're going to get in the time we have to work with. Let's do it."

The four of them filed outside and spent another two minutes in an animated discussion about logistics and support that any passerby might have heard. Several humans heard T'Pol volunteer to return to _Enterprise_ to assist with the Pod and any other duties she could. With that Archer and T'Pol turned to re-enter the pod.

T'Pol just happened to glance out across the compound to the street beyond the fence. The gate was open to allow emergency vehicles easy access to the compound. There were a few people outside, though not so many as there would have been on Earth. Vulcans were, by and large, not prone to 'rubber-necking' as Commander Tucker would have put it.

Just as the thought crossed her mind T'Pol saw him. Her gaze was upon him and then passed before it registered and she actually stumbled as she jerked her gaze back to where she had seen. . . .

STE

"Shit!" Trip hissed and ducked behind Kov who was already moving parallel to the fence. "Dammit, how in the world does she _do_ that?"

"Vulcan women have a very keen sense of smell," Kov remarked softly, trying his best to appear to be simply another disinterested Vulcan as he moved the two of them out of T'Pol's line of sight.

"I bathed 'fore I left the ship!" Trip hissed in his native tongue.

"I refer not to the distinct odor of the unwashed body, but to pheromones secreted by the male," Kov was having a difficult time keeping a straight face as he explained this. How someone as smart as Trip could be so clueless was beyond him.

"I know what pheromones are," Trip shot back. "What's that got to do with T'Pol?"

"Commander T'Pol is highly attracted to you, Charles," Kov used Trip's real name as a sign of seriousness. "I am amazed you cannot see it."

"She ain't neither," Trip's voice was quieter now as he stood straighter, the two of them now well out of sight of the gate. Kov turned to make sure they were not being pursued. It would not have surprised him to see Commander T'Pol doing just that.

"Yes, she is," Kov assured him. "Vulcan biology drives us to mate. To produce offspring to carry on our line. The female Vulcan's sense of smell is superior to even most wild animals at close range. They can literally smell a potential defect in a prospective mate. It helps them to ensure healthy children."

"You gotta be shittin' me," Trip looked shocked.

"It is how Vulcan females selected a potential mate in our time before Surak," Kov shrugged. "Humans have no such ability?"

"Where I come from a girl's _daddy_ makes sure the potential 'mate' is suitable, or else he beats his ass off with a two-by-four and feeds him to the gators!" Trip said hotly. "Only thing you can find by smell in Florida is bar-b-que and the swamp." He refused to allow himself to think about the trench now cut into his home state.

"Such behavior could explain your people's inability to accept any form of logic," Kov mused.

"You don't embrace logic!" Trip managed not to shout. This wasn't funny.

"I embrace logic trip," Kov surprised him. "I simply also embrace my emotions rather than suppress them. While the two are related for most Vulcans, they are not mutually exclusive."

"Oh," Trip's voice sounded small to him as Kov explained something he knew, somehow, that he should have already known.

"Anyway, it's possible that T'Pol does not even realize what's happening, at least not yet. But if you are around her when her time comes, she will almost certainly try to select you to mate with. It is obvious that she sees in you the possibility of superior offspring. That might be something you want to consider concerning the Kalifee," he warned. "Mortal combat does tend to, uhm, increase the, ah, female's. . . _drive_ , so to speak."

 _How the hell do I keep gettin'_ into _this shit_?

STE

"T'Pol!" Archer called again, louder this time. She jerked around at the strident tone in his voice.

"Sir," she responded automatically.

"I asked what was wrong," Jon was quieter now so that they didn't attract any more attention.

"I thought. . ." T'Pol forced herself to stop. "I was mistaken, Commodore. I thought I saw someone I know, knew, but. . .I was simply incorrect. When I looked again they were not there." She continued into the shuttlepod, Archer right behind, dogging the hatch.

"Are you okay?" he asked once they were inside the privacy of the pod again.

"I am well," T'Pol nodded but Jon could see a slight tremble in her hand. She stilled it with effort as she began powering up the shuttle's systems.

"T'Pol, are you sure-"

"I am sure, Commodore," T'Pol's voice was steady and even again. "There is no difficulty. And we do not have the luxury of time to waste in flights of fancy or emotion." Her tone wasn't sharp, merely factual. Jon got the impression that T'Pol was speaking to herself as much as she was to him.

With the shuttle powered up he put the incident out of his mind and concentrated on flying. He was distracted enough as it was, knowing that at least some part of the Vulcan Security Directorate had just declared war on Earth.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

"Commodore Archer and Commander T'Pol are on their way up from the planet, Commander," Hoshi told Reed quietly after making sure no one else on the bridge could hear. "He wants you to meet them in the shuttle bay. Alone," she added. Reed looked at her, eyebrows raised.

"That's all?" he asked, his face a study in composure.

"That is all," she nodded firmly.

"Very well," he rose from the command chair. "ETA?"

"Less than ten minutes," she informed him. "I don't suppose. . . ."

"You have the bridge, Lieutenant," Reed smiled at her not so subtle attempt to invite herself along. "Call me if there's an issue."

"Yes sir," Hoshi smiled, not at all discouraged. She took the chair with a slight thrill, having never sat there before except in space dock. This was the real thing.

"Do try not to hit anything, Lieutenant Sato," Reed's voice was right in her ear and she shivered ever so minutely. It took all her willpower not to turn and look at him.

"I'll try to stay in the _right_ lane, Commander," she replied evenly. She heard his snort of amusement as he walked away. He was always complaining about 'bloody Yanks' not knowing the proper side of the road to drive on.

She allowed herself a tiny grin at having kept her composure.

"Steady as she goes, Mister Mayweather," she couldn't resist.

"Aye, ma'am," Travis grinned back. "Steady as she goes it is."

STE

Malcolm waited for the bay to pressurize, trying to figure out what could be so important that the Commodore would leave the embassy at a time like this. The mystery only deepened as the hatch opened and Archer appeared only to wave for Reed to come to him, then disappeared back inside.

Completely stumped now, Reed walked to the pod and followed Archer inside.

And straight down a rabbit hole.

STE

"You've got to be bloody kidding!" Reed's face mirrored the look the others had exhibited at hearing T'Pol's news.

"I do not kid, Commander," T'Pol replied evenly. "I am Vulcan and we do not kid."

"They have no sense of humor they are aware of," Jon snorted, thinking of a movie that Trip had demanded they watch once. "Look, we need a number of things, Malcolm. First and foremost, I need to try and talk to someone, _anyone_ , who can tell me what to do."

"And if they tell you to cover it up?" Malcolm asked. "What will you do?"

"They aren't going to do that," Jon insisted.

"I can assure you they have done it more than once," Reed spoke with the confident certainty of someone who knew what he was talking about. "And this. . .something like this is huge. Potentially this could start a war, sir. It could completely sever Earth and Vulcan relations. Should I go on?"

"There's no way they'll just sweep this under the rug, Malcolm," Jon stood abruptly. He knew that Malcolm had run in some unsavory circles before coming to Starfleet, but this. . . .

"Sir, I'm sure you don't want to hear it, but I'm telling you what I know. Vulcan will cover this up if it's for the greater good, will they not Commander?" he looked to T'Pol.

"Yes," came the flat reply. Sure, certain. "Without any hesitation."

"We're not Vulcan," Jon shook his head.

"Sir, not to put too fine a point to this, but do you remember the 'welcome' we got when we came home from the Expanse? Does that treatment make you confident in any way about how Starfleet or the EU in general will respond to something like this?"

An angry retort stopped on his lips as he thought back to more than one discussion with Forrest after coming home from the Expanse. He didn't want to think it was true, but Malcolm was right. He had no real assurance that Starfleet would do anything other than sweep this away. Maybe trade it away for some 'consideration' or other.

"I'm open to suggestions," Jon said finally. "What can we do?"

Reed opened his mouth to make a suggestion but then stopped, considering his next words carefully. In truth there was perhaps someone he could call. Had already called in fact. He could call Trip, or Janos, but what, if anything, could the two of them do?

"What is it, Malcolm?" Jon asked. "Talk to me."

"I have a secure communication rig," he admitted, buying time as he thought. "It's completely untraceable, Commodore, but it's a one time use. Once you open it, it will last about ten minutes and then it's gone. And I have only one."

"Where did you get something like that?" Jon asked.

"You really, _really_ don't want to know," Reed shook his head. "You really don't."

"You know, Malcolm, I'm getting _really_ tired of hearing you say that," Jon sighed.

"I understand, sir," Reed nodded. "In all honesty though I haven't heard from. . .anyone, in some time. I might finally be clear of them. Finally be just a Starfleet officer and nothing else." He glanced at T'Pol.

"It is a difficult life to lead," she nodded her agreement and understanding. "There is nothing dishonorable about service to your people, but only the naive think it does not exact a toll on you."

Archer thought that one over. He'd always had an issue with Malcolm's background, hating secrets and secret organizations. But they did serve a purpose, and while Malcolm might sometimes hide things like this, Jon had never found Malcolm Reed to be anything other than honorable.

"So who do you suggest I call, then?" he asked finally. "I was going to call Admiral Forrest. He's about the only person I completely trust, even if I don't always like what he has to say."

Reed thought that one over for a moment before nodding.

"I would agree he is likely as good a choice as any," he said evenly. "I can't think of anyone better. Commander?" he looked at T'Pol.

"Admiral Forrest has always been an honorable man to my knowledge," she agreed. "If he is duplicitous then I have never been made aware of it. I know that Ambassador Soval has always held him in high regard, as does former Ambassador Skon."

"Soval isn't exactly a ringing endorsement," Jon muttered and was surprised when T'Pol nodded her agreement.

"I am forced to concur. However, Soval was once an honorable being himself. I do not know what has influenced him to change as he has in recent times, but his opinion once held weight in matters such as these. I believe that Admiral Forrest may be the best option for you, Commodore, especially when weighed against the alternatives." She paused before adding, "Assuming you cannot contact your President directly, and if you could that he would be willing to listen."

"That I can't promise because I don't know the answer," Jon shrugged helplessly. "That's why I had only considered Forrest, to be honest. As I said, I don't always like what he has to say, but he's always been honest with me. When he couldn't tell me something, he'd _tell_ me he couldn't tell me rather than lie about it. That's more than most people in a position like his would do."

"That is an unfortunate truth," T'Pol nodded her agreement.

"So we're in agreement then?" Jon asked, looking to his two highest ranking officers in turn. "Give this to Forrest and let him decide?"

"Agreed," T'Pol nodded.

"Yes sir," Reed nodded as well. His mind was already racing ahead to the implications of what he'd learned. He had told Archer he possessed only one device because he would need the other two.

There were others who needed to know this information.

STE

"I'm sorry, but did I understand you to say-"

"I'm afraid you did, sir," Reed nodded firmly. "Commodore Archer is contacting Admiral Forrest as we speak to relay the news to him. He is in something of a quandary concerning what action to take."

"I should imagine," Janos' breath left him in an explosive sigh. "Malcolm this is potentially the worst news ever in man's history. I'm afraid I don't know what to do either. I need time to think about this."

"Can't say I blame you there, sir," Reed admitted. "I do need a favor, however," Reed added. "I only have one device left at the moment. May I ask that you relay this information to Trip for me please? He needs to be aware of this, especially if he's planning to visit Vulcan."

"He's already on Vulcan," Janos told him flatly. "He freed several Vulcan women and adolescents from a Syndicate slave ring and returned them to Vulcan some hours ago now. And yes, I will see to it that he is made aware of this at once. And to think just this morning I was only concerned that Charles might start a war with Vulcan over a woman," he laughed bitterly.

"So he does plan to intervene in T'Pol's issue?" Reed asked.

"Oh, yes," Janos chuckled slightly. "He most definitely does. In a way that is almost sure to cause an issue, to use a term that Neera and Jerl delight in using when delivering me bad news."

"A war between Earth and Vulcan would not be a pretty thing, sir," Reed hedged.

"Three of the ships that Charles has designed and constructed are now on station around our own system, fully manned and operational," Janos smiled thinly. "Led by a man who is as merciless as he is loyal. Any Vulcans who come here looking for a fight will find one, I assure you. Some of them may even survive."

"I admit I'm relieved to hear that," Reed released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "I daresay Vulcan will find it difficult to overcome three such vessels."

"So do I," Janos nodded. "Well, your time is short unless I miss my guess. I'll inform Julio to get you another supply of com units as soon as possible. Since they are in orbit somewhere around Vulcan I'm sure he can work something out."

"Thank yo-" the signal terminated abruptly, signifying that Malcolm's time was indeed up.

Janos hit a button on his intercom.

"Neera, be a dear and come to my office. Find Jerl and have him report as well. And close the shop. We'll be busy I'm afraid."

"And things looked so simple just this morning," he murmured.

STE

"Jon are you sure about this?" Forrest's face was as tight as his voice. "I mean absolutely sure?"

"Commander T'Pol recognized the material, sir," Jon nodded. "She wasn't supposed to be there. We were about to shuttle her down to the planet when the ambassador called for help, and we all crammed aboard. She volunteered to assist Hayes in searching for any further devices."

"So no one knew she would even be there," Forrest's eyes narrowed at this news. "That let's out that she's a part of this, doesn't it?"

"Not that she would be, but yes sir, it does," Jon managed to keep his voice calm.

"I'm not accusing her, Jon," Forrest told him. "I'm just getting the arguments out of the way. And only you four know this?"

"Five counting the Ambassador," Jon pointed out. "Otherwise it's just myself, T'Pol, Reed and Hayes. Neither the Ambassador nor myself knew what to do or who to call. Technically this is an act of war."

"Technically hell," Forrest was grim. "The embassy is EU territory. It _is_ an act of war. But by who? Just because one element of the Vulcan security services did this. . .it could just be one rogue member at that."

"That thought has occurred to us," Jon nodded. "There are apparently factions among the Vulcans who want a new government. Or at least a new High Minister. I don't know how an attack on our embassy would advance that cause, though."

"I don't either, but whoever did this may see a way to use it. If not, then why do it at all?" Forrest asked.

"I can't answer that one, sir," Jon shrugged. "That's why you get the big bucks," he grinned and Forrest snorted at the old joke.

"You're a great help, Jon," the older man assured him. "Look, sit on this for the time being while I. . .hell, while I don't know," Forrest's hands rose in a helpless gesture. "I'm going to have to think about this for a few minutes and then try to come up with a plan. Continue to lend any assistance you can. I already have _Columbia_ enroute carrying some psychologists along with other medical professionals as well as material aid. Until we see what the total damage is I had to guess at what would be needed the most and try to include it on the ship."

"Understood," Jon nodded. "My time on this thing is running-" the screen went blank as he was speaking.

"Handy little device," he muttered to himself. He hit his intercom.

"Hoshi, have the shuttle pods been loaded?"

"Ready to depart at five minutes notice, sir," she replied at once.

"Thank you. Commanders T'Pol and Reed to my ready room." Both were there in less than a minute.

"For now this stays with us," he said without preamble. "Forrest was clearly intending to take action, but he needs time to decide who he can trust. I know that feeling," he added ruefully and the other two nodded their agreement. "Malcolm you'll have command of _Enterprise_ for the time being. _Columbia_ is on the way with medical and material aid as well. No ETA on them as yet."

"Sir," Reed nodded.

"T'Pol you'll return with us. I don't know how long you can stay with us, that will be up to you. Technically you are no longer under my command, but you are my. . .my friend, T'Pol," he used the word despite the fact that Vulcans didn't use it. "And I thank you for that."

"It is agreeable to me as well, Commodore," T'Pol surprised him. "I will assist you for as long as I am allowed, though I expect to be ordered away from your embassy compound as soon as we return. Ambassador Soval will know I am there."

"All the more reason to thank you now," Jon was firm. "Malcolm, this situation is fluid to say the least. It could change by the hour, even by the minute depending on what happens. All I can say is use your best judgement and keep our people safe. I have every confidence in you."

"Thank you sir," Reed stiffened at that. It was the highest praise Archer had ever given him, and meant more than he would have imagined.

"Well, let's get moving," Jon ordered. "There's still a lot to do."

STE

"That's a joke, right?"

"Have you ever heard me tell a joke, Charles?" Janos' face looked a bit deformed.

"Well, no," Trip admitted, thinking it over first.

"Nor are you likely to," Janos continued. "Our embassy was clearly attacked by at least one rogue Vulcan security agent. It may or may not have been at the order of the V'Las government or elements within it. For now we will keep this among us since I am reliably informed that Commodore Archer is, even now, using one of Julio's devices to contact Admiral Forrest. Archer is understandably unsure of how to proceed."

"We should smoke this rock to glass," Trip growled, and Janos once more wondered if he had erred where his youngest charge was concerned.

"Charles, that is not to be considered an option," he resisted the urge to snap. "This is not Xindi we're talking about."

"Ah, I know," Trip waved the comment away. "And I don't mean it, no way." he added. "I'm just really put out with this V'Las and his band o' merry men. I ain't gonna kill a buncha innocent people to get even with him. Not when I can just kill him and be done with it." Trip's eyes glowed dangerously at that and Janos was reminded once more that Charles Tucker was indeed special, even amongst their own.

"You must consider the impact that would have on Earth, on Vulcan, and the rest of the quadrant, Charles," Janos reminded him. "This must be handled with deftness."

"Yeah, I know," Trip sighed. "I ain't gonna do that neither. Don't mind me, boss, I'm just blowin' off steam." Janos felt some of the tension in him drain at that.

"Jaw, Jaw is better than War, War," Janos nodded. "Not an exact application, but fitting none-the-less."

"Reckon so," Trip nodded. "Well, the Vulcans we freed are still being counseled so we're on the planet. I'm still plannin' to help T'Pol, though," he added. "I'm not gonna see her suffer for helpin' Earth when no one else would."

"An honorable following that I would never discourage," Janos nodded. "Please try to not start a war doing it, since we may be headed there already."

"About that," Trip began, but Janos was ahead of him.

"Prim is already on station with _Styx_ , _Phlegethon_ , and _Lethe_ ," the older man informed him. "Any Vulcans who try to attack this planet will find a hot reception indeed waiting for them as they attempt to cross the river." His smile was enough to make even Trip feel a bit intimidated.

"Well, that's a relief," Trip nodded.

" _Charon_ should be on station soon," he glanced at his clock. "Their orders are to hold one hour out from Vulcan and be ready to support you as needed."

"You know, I might have made a bad decision about how we named these ships," Trip sighed, thinking about it.

"Well, _Artemis_ and _Freya_ have a better ring to them," Janos smiled. "We live and learn."

"Reckon," Trip nodded. "Well, I'll be in touch if a war starts or anything," he tried to lighten the mood.

"I'd much prefer you contact me _before_ the war starts."

STE

T'Pol had been correct.

As Archer piloted the shuttle pod to a deft landing on the embassy pad, Soval stood regarding the craft. As soon as T'Pol exited, carrying a crate of medical supplies, Soval was upon her.

"It is not proper for you to be here," he told her at once.

"I am lending assistance to guests of our world in their time of need," T'Pol replied evenly, never slowing. "As Surak taught," she added, wounding the elder Vulcan in a way that truly mattered.

"That is not what I meant," Soval responded, suitably chastened. "I meant that you have duties that you should be tending to."

"My duty to marry Koss?" T'Pol managed not to sneer. She had not meditated in many hours. "Which of course transcends any duty I have to render humanitarian aid to those who have been far kinder to me than my own people," she continued. Arriving to where Phlox had established a triage station, she sat the heavy crate on the ground.

"Doctor, these are supplies that Ensign Cutler said you had requested. I am told that this crate in particular contains equipment you asked be sent you."

"Thank you, Commander," Phlox managed to smile. "Your assistance honors you and your people." While he spoke to T'Pol in a kind tone of voice, he was giving Soval a withering glance that showed the physician had heard Soval's statement.

"I'm afraid I must depart, Doctor," T'Pol nodded at the compliment. "My service to _Enterprise_ has ended. It has been gratifying to serve in your company, Phlox. I. . .thank you, for your. . .friendship, and your willingness to try and treat my illness. These are things that I will not forget."

"Commander, it was my privilege," Phlox assured her. "I will miss you," he added. "Live long and prosper, Commander T'Pol."

"Peace and long life to you, Doctor." Without another word for Soval she turned and departed. Soval hesitated, looking at Phlox.

"It is regreta-" he began, but Phlox turned his back on the Vulcan and returned to his work.

Seeing that his words were not welcome, Soval turned to follow his one time protégé. She was now approaching Archer.

"Commodore, I must take my leave," he heard her say. "I regret that I will not be able to assist you further. Know that I hold you in high regard as a valued and trusted colleague. Perhaps one day we will serve together again."

"I look forward to that, Commander," Archer told her sincerely. "And I regret that my world cannot do for you what you did for us. I am ashamed of my people for turning their back on you in your time of need."

"Vulcan will see to her needs, Commodore," Soval interrupted.

"Yes, I've seen how well Vulcan cares for Commander T'Pol," Archer's voice would have etched steel. "Remember the wheel, Ambassador," he smiled thinly. "It _will_ come around."

"Farewell T'Pol. May your journey be long and your road pleasant."

"And you, Commodore," T'Pol nodded. Once more she left Soval standing as she turned for the gate, stopping only long enough to retrieve a small bag of personal property from the shuttle.

Soval did not bother to attempt to speak to Archer, knowing it would be useless. Though he would die under torture without admitting it, Archer's thinly disguised threats had unsettled him. For the first time Soval was seeing how formidable Archer really was.

It was not a pleasant discovery.

He hurried to catch up to T'Pol by the time she reached the gate.

"I have a vehicle to carry you to your mother's home," he informed her.

"I will not need it, for I will not be going to the home of my mother," T'Pol replied evenly. "I will secure lodging here in the city for the night and then seek a suitable domicile tomorrow."

"It is illogical not to stay in your family's home," Soval told her. "And your mother wishes to see you."

"I have no family," T'Pol told him. "And I have requested you not speak to me in any manner not related to official business. My mother's wishes are completely irrelevant to the business of Vulcan. I will notify her of my presence and she can forward me a schedule for my wedding. That is all the interaction that I need with her."

Soval managed not to stare as T'Pol set off once more, this time into the heart of the city. A tendril of unease began to unfurl in his stomach. Everything he had worked to achieve was going to fall apart because he had not trusted her enough to tell her what was happening. What he was planning.

A plan that had been needlessly complicated by T'Les' carelessness.

STE

"It is called the _koon-ut-kal-if-fee_ ," Kov told Trip as the two rested in his cabin. "The Vulcan mating ceremony, or marriage as you would call it. _Kalifee_ is what you would call the slang term I suppose, and is acceptable for use in the challenge. Traditionally the female has the right to claim the _kalifee_ if she is not satisfied with her prospective mate."

"Why not just choose. . .no, you guys have arranged marriages, I forgot," Trip shook his head. "We used to do that kind of thing, too. Some places still do I hear."

"Really?" Kov expressed a bit of surprise. "I did not know that."

"Especially a big deal with royalty," Trip nodded.

"We began to arrange marriages in part because so many spent their lives searching for their _ashaya_ , or soul mate, and succumbed to the blood fever instead of taking a suitable mate at the proper time," Kov shook his head. "It was a senseless waste of life. The tradition of arranged marriages helped to stop that. It is unfortunate that we have yet to move forward to the point that we allow our children to select for themselves who they will spend their lives with."

"Reckon some things is universal, Kov, and parental meddlin' is at the top o' that list, right after infidelity and a woman needin' a big weddin'," Trip joked. "Anyway, what do I need to do."

"You must wait for the proper time before speaking," Kov warned. "There will be an opportunity for you to challenge, but it must be presented in the proper way or it will be discarded." He frowned. "It would simplify matters greatly if Commander T'Pol would issue the challenge herself and then select you as her champion."

"Well, seein' as how she thinks I'm dead, I'm near certain that won't happen," Trip snorted. "Not to mention that she'd likely not realize I could stand up to a Vulcan in hand-to-hand combat."

"And yet you managed to subdue me when I was in a Trellium induced rage," Kov shrugged. "I suspect you will have no difficulty dispatching Koss."

"About that," Trip leaned forward. "Is it better if I don't kill him?"

"Explain."

"Well, would it be better for T'Pol if I let Koss live instead o' killin' 'im? I'm tryin' to help T'Pol, not make her life worse."

"It would leave Koss in great shame," Kov mused. "Suitable payback I should think for the torment he has caused the Commander. But. . .without knowing the circumstances I cannot say for sure."

"All I know is that she's basically bein' blackmailed into doin' this because Koss' father has had T'Pol's mother fired from her job and made some kind of frame job that can have her put in prison, but he'll very magnanimously make all that go away so long as T'Pol 'submits' to Koss."

"That is a vile and dishonorable action," Kov muttered darkly. "You should certainly kill Koss," he said.

"Works for me," Trip nodded. "All this has made me hungry. You hungry Kov?"

STE

T'Pol answered the door of her temporary quarters still in her Starfleet uniform. She was experiencing a feeling of sentimentality where it was concerned. Once she removed it the last time, she would no longer be a member of Starfleet. It was as if remaining in uniform a bit longer was keeping that realization at bay. She rationalized her behavior with the fact that it was illogical to change before showering.

Expecting Soval, or perhaps her mother, she was suitably and understandably surprised to see Koss standing there instead.

"T'Pol," he bowed slightly. "May I enter?"

"I suppose," she sighed and stepped aside to allow him entrance. There was nothing to be gained by antagonizing him.

"That is not a suitable welcome for your betrothed," Koss told her.

"I do not consider you such," T'Pol told him flatly. "I will wed you, Koss, because of the threats to my mother. Do not presume more than that."

"I make no presumption other than that of a prospective groom," Koss told her. "When we are wed, T'Pol, things such as this," he made a contemptuous gesture at her uniform, "will cease."

"I have already left the service of Starfleet," T'Pol once again thanked the occasion that had led her to Delana Grix. Had she still suffered from Pa'narr, T'Pol would have reacted badly to the gesture.

"You will keep our home and be a proper Vulcan wife. Raising our children and following our ways."

"As I said, do not presume too much," T'Pol replied. "I will marry you. More than that you will have to earn. Do not forget Koss that I served for many years with the V'Shar. Making your death look accidental would not be straining my ability in any way."

Instead of becoming agitated, Koss actually nodded.

"That is why I want you, T'Pol," he told her. "You have passion and fire that is completely unacceptable to our people and yet is fascinatingly attractive to me. I look forward to taming you."

"Get out," T'Pol was tired. "I will see you again at the ceremony and not before. Once the ceremony is complete I will be entering the monastery at Gol and will remain there for a term of one year."

"That is unacceptable," Koss told her, not budging from his spot. "We will spend that year establishing our bond."

"We will have no bond," she told him and took great pleasure in doing so, something that she should not have done. "Now get out. Do not return here. I will not see you again until the ceremony, which is certainly my right. Do not force me to create an uncomfortable scene that would cause many questions. Go."

"We will see what happens," Koss more or less threatened. "You can pretend all you wish, T'Pol, but you will be mine in every possible way." As he left, T'Pol closed the door, a shock of surprise and fear passing over her. Not at his implied threat. T'Pol had no fear of Koss. Or at least she hadn't had, until now.

Until Koss had _smiled_ at her before leaving her quarters.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

"I think we should talk to her," Kov said as he and Trip ate their breakfast in the _Argonaut_ 's small galley. "This would be far easier with her help."

"I'd have too much explainin' to do," Trip shook his head.

"As opposed to how simple it will be to simply spring this on her all at once, you mean?" Kov's tone was sardonic. "Trip, you have not thought this through very well. It is admirable that you wish to assist her, but we are dealing with centuries of custom and prejudice. This will be extremely difficult to make happen if we do this without her knowledge or help."

"So what then?" Trip asked, shrugging. "Just up and drop by, say 'Hey T'Pol, heard about your weddin', was thinkin' o' crashin' it but wanted to make sure you wouldn't mind? Something like that?"

"Exactly," Kov nodded firmly. "Exactly like that. You tell her exactly what you are doing and why. If she truly wants to be helped out of this situation, she will be glad for your assistance."

"And when she points out, all logical like, that I can't possibly handle Koss in a straight up fight?" Trip asked.

"Then you tell her the truth," Kov said simply. "And you prove that you can."

"Kov, what do you know about me, exactly?" Trip asked suddenly.

"You'll need to be more specific or we'll be here all day," Kov replied.

"You know exactly what I'm saying," Trip shot back. "You know I can handle Koss, but I want to know _how_ you know that. What do you know about me?"

Kov regarded Trip carefully, noting that his friend's blue eyes were dangerously aglow at the moment.

"I know a great deal about you, Trip," Kov said evenly. "But to answer your specific question, I'm aware of your. . .difference, my friend. I'm also aware that you are not the only one, but you are different, even from them. No one told me that, but I can see it for myself. I may not be a 'logical' Vulcan, but I _am_ Vulcan. And somewhat intelligent," he added with an almost smirk.

"I've never doubted your intelligence," Trip snorted. "But think about what you just said. You may know something, but you don't _know_ , Kov. If you did, we probably wouldn't still be friends."

"I know you were able to tear the head from a full grown Orion male with your bare hands," Kov revealed calmly. "And I am still your friend. I know that you did the same thing to a Xindi Reptillian who was about to kill Archer, and I am still your friend. I know that you were willing to destroy an entire planet, an entire species, in revenge for your sister, and yet, I am still your friend."

Trip's eyes had grown ever brighter as Kov continued to speak, belying the look of shock on his face as Kov recited fact after fact.

"So you see, friend Trip," Kov continued, "I know exactly what I'm suggesting. I also know that T'Pol will appreciate your help. And she is smart enough to recognize that the new you will be able to deliver her from this nightmare she has found herself in."

"You've known all this. . .how long?" Trip asked.

"I knew about the Orion the same day you returned from the vessel to the station," Kov shrugged. "People do talk, Trip, and someone had to clean up after you. The rest I caught in bits and pieces except for the part about how you took me down. That I saw for myself on the recording."

"You weren't supposed to see that," Trip almost growled. "I ordered it to be put away."

"Trip, I'm smart enough to decrypt a simple recording and I had plenty of time to do it while you were away. And your desire to protect me from myself is one of the reasons you are, and will always be, my friend." Kov's voice was calm and collected. "The rage that I was in was far worse than even the _Pon Farr_ , and yet you took me down unaided. Neera helped you afterward, but you took down a Vulcan in full uncontrolled rage. You will have no difficulty with Koss. He may fight better than me, and will certainly be better trained than I am, but he will not be in the grips of a Trellium rage or the Blood Fever."

"So why do I need T'Pol's help?" Trip asked.

"Because all she has to do is ring the gong and select you as her champion and no one can legally say a word."

STE

Jonathon Archer hadn't been so tired since the Expanse. Even the eighteen hour days during the negotiations with the Xindi hadn't been this tiring. He had slept twice, two hours each, since his arrival.

The body count was officially complete now at one hundred and eighteen. There were twice that many injured, with injuries ranging from minor cuts and bruises to traumatic injuries that might still result in death. Other who were uninjured still suffered from shock.

He stumbled into the shuttlepod and collapsed onto the bench seat, his bed on the two rare occasions he'd been able to get any sleep. Jon realized that he was so tired he was punch drunk. At this point he wasn't even able to fly himself back to _Enterprise_. He would have to try and sleep a few hours here and then maybe he could manage the trip back.

He had yet to hear from Forrest, but that wasn't surprising. Maxwell had been clearly shocked by the news of the explosives, and had not hidden the fact that he had no idea how to proceed. Jon could only hope that Forrest would be able to figure it out.

All he could do for now was try to sleep. He stretched out on the bench and pulled an emergency blanket over himself. He was asleep in seconds.

STE

T'Pol considered refusing to answer the buzzer to her quarters, but only for a second. It would do her no good to avoid her mother, or Koss, or Soval. Thanks to them she was in an untenable position. One that had become horrifically clear to her the evening before.

Koss had deliberately smiled at her, something no Vulcan would ever do. At least no normal Vulcan. She could not imagine that Koss was _V'tosh ka'tur_ , but what other explanation could their be? Such an open display of emotion could only be explained by his refusal to embrace logic.

Her previous encounter with Tolaris had exposed her to what a Vulcan male uninhibited by logic was capable of. If Koss was the same kind of predator as Tolaris, then his threats of 'taming' her were suddenly much more frightening.

She had spent the entire night attempting meditation, considering her options. They were limited to merely two. Accept or refuse. Acceptance would help her mother, but place T'Pol herself in great danger. Refusal would see T'Pol probably shunned from her own people and reduce her to a homeless refugee while her mother would be imprisoned, or worse.

T'Pol had no true desire to see her mother suffer, but she had decided sometime before dawn that she would never submit to Koss. Not now that she knew he was possibly like Tolaris. She was not responsible for her mother's actions and would not pay such a steep penalty as that to assist her.

She would not marry Koss, nor submit to his cruelty. She would never again be victim to such an attack as the one Tolaris had perpetrated upon her.

And so now she would have to face either Koss, Soval, or T'Les with that refusal. There was no sense in putting it off so she went to the door and opened it.

"Commander," Kov bowed slightly. "It is agreeable to see you again." There was a robed and hooded figure behind Koss, the face obscured by the hood.

"Kov," T'Pol hid her surprise as well as any true Vulcan would or could. "It is likewise agreeable to see you, though unexpected."

"May we enter, Commander?" Kov indicated himself and his associate. "I promise you will not regret it," he told her softly.

"Of course," T'Pol stepped back and allowed Kov to enter. The robed figure followed him, silent. There was something slightly familiar about the movement that T'Pol could not place.

"Commander, I must confess that I am aware of your circumstance," Kov told her once the door was closed. "I have no wish to intrude on your private life, but there are many who are concerned at your treatment. People who would assist you if you will allow it."

"To what are you refering, Kov?" T'Pol asked, glancing at the still silent robed figure. What was it that was so familiar?

"I am referring to the act of blackmail being perpetrated upon you by Koss and his father, Commander," Kov replied calmly. "It is not common knowledge, but there are some. . .uncommon people who are interested in assisting you."

"And why would these uncommon people be interested in helping me?" T'Pol asked.

"Because they hold you in high regard," the robed figure answered in flawless High Vulcan.

"We agreed that I would do this," Kov sighed, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

"You were takin' too long," the robed figure replied in a _very_ familiar voice. As T'Pol watched, the speaker raised his hands to pull back the hood, revealing. . . .

"Trip?"

"Hello darlin'," Trip grinned at her.

At which point T'Pol actually fainted.

STE

"I didn't even know a Vulcan _could_ faint!" T'Pol heard the voice from very far away.

"This is why I told you to let _me_ do the talking!" Kov almost hissed. "Someone returning from the dead is surely very traumatic for the living, Trip!"

"How was I supposed to know she'd faint? She ain't never did it before!"

"I have never before experienced someone I thought dead returning from the grave," T'Pol managed to say as she rose from where she had been placed upon her bed. "And I have been too long without proper meditation." She looked at Charles Anthony Tucker for a full minute without speaking. Trip allowed her to do so uninterrupted, aware that he was the cause of her earlier spell.

"Why did you allow us to believe that you were dead?" she demanded finally, and Trip actually smiled.

"I missed you too, T'Pol!"

"If I were human I would be very angry," T'Pol said, crossing her arms.

"You're doing a pretty good imitation of it right now," Trip nodded. "And I let you think it cause I didn't know what I was gonna do to be honest. I had thought I was gonna die, and then Shran beamed me out just as _Acheron_ was slamming into the hull of that thing. Beaming makes me pass out for some reason, and by the time I woke up you were about to fight the other Xindi."

"We didn't fight them, however," T'Pol reminded him, lowering her arms as she realized that he was correct and she did appear to look very much like an annoyed human female. Which annoyed her.

"No, you didn't," Trip nodded. "My head was kinda messed up at the time, so I decided to just stay dead for a bit while I got it straightened out. Time I got home, there wasn't no point in changing it. My folks already knew I was alive," he shrugged. "And if Starfleet thought I was dead they'd quit lookin'."

"Logical," T'Pol nodded. "I saw you at the embassy yesterday, didn't I?" she realized suddenly.

"Yeah," Trip actually blushed at that and she wondered why. "We was looking the scene over. But I actually came here to help you," he told her. "I had just rescued some Vulcan captives from an Orion slaver and I brought them back as well. But I'd be here anyway because you need me."

T'Pol felt her world shift slightly at that statement but managed to keep her outward appearance normal. He was here, on Vulcan, _because she needed him_.

"I fail to see how you can assist me, Captain, though the sentiment is appreciated."

"He's going to challenge Koss for you," Kov told her easily. "We thought, well _I_ thought, it would go better if you knew about it in advance. Actually it would go _much_ better if you would declare the Kalifee and select Trip as your champion," he added.

"I doubt that Comm. . .Captain Tucker can survive the _Kalifee_ against a Vulcan male, Kov." She admitted if only to herself that she was no longer as sure of that as she once was. She tried to ignore the faint stirring within her, the small tendril of hope that she would be delivered from her predicament.

"Let me worry 'bout that," Trip told her easily. "I may not be all that, but I can take Koss just fine, T'Pol. And there's no way I'm lettin' him get away with this after all you've done for us. Now, I can either be your 'champion' when you declare the Kalifee, or I can just wait for the part where the preacher asks if anyone knows any reason you two shouldn't be married and then speak up."

"We do not have 'preachers', Captain," T'Pol wanted to roll her eyes. "Nor do we ask any such questions. There is an accepted way to-" She stopped as she noticed Trip grinning.

"I know all that," he admitted to her. "I been studying on it for the last two days, along with my tutor, here," he nodded to Kov. "I was just aimin' to show up at the weddin' and tell Koss that I'd fight him for you cause I fancied you for myself. Kov figured we shouldn't surprise you like that, and judging by how you reacted I'd say he was right."

"Anyway, don't worry about me, T'Pol," he continued. "I can take Koss just fine. But only if you want me to." His voice grew gentle. "I don't want you stuck with him, T'Pol. He don't deserve you and you sure deserve better. I can make him go away if you let me. All I need is for you to sound the challenge and pick me. I'll do the rest."

"It is not that I do not appreciate your offer, Captain," T'Pol's voice was uncharacteristically gentle. "I fear for your safety should you engage in such an endeavor. It would be reckless of me to allow it."

"T'Pol, Trip is more than capable of dealing with Koss," Kov assured her. "I have proof of that here," he held up a PADD, studiously ignoring Trip. "I must warn you that watching it will be. . .difficult."

"Kov," Trip's voice was altogether too gentle. "That better not be what I think it is," he warned.

"That would depend on what you think it is," Kov replied without looking away from T'Pol. "Commander, Mister Tucker is not the being you once knew. Not exactly. He is far more. . .more," Kov shrugged as he failed to come up with a suitable word. "And he is a warrior. He can do this."

"What is on here?" T'Pol tapped the screen.

"T'Pol, don't," Trip was almost begging. "Don't- damn you, Kov," his voice was bitter. "Always my friend, huh?"

"She has to be convinced," Kov's gaze never left T'Pol. "You want this to work, she needs proof. Our word isn't going to be good enough, Trip."

"Don't show her that, Kov," Trip asked. Pleaded.

"What could be so terrible that you do not wish me to see it?" T'Pol asked, accepting the PADD from Kov's hand. Suddenly Trip stood abruptly, his face a mask. T'Pol was shocked to see that his eyes, always a clear and bold blue, were now very azure indeed.

"You know what?" he said suddenly, his voice tight with barely controlled emotion. "Go ahead and take a look. But when you do, don't say I didn't warn you." He looked at Kov.

"You sandbagged me Kov. Lied to me. I'd never have done that to you."

"Trip, let her _see_ ," Kov urged. "It will set her mind at ease where your safety is concerned. She will see that you can handle Koss. It will give her hope," Kov said plainly. "Something I suggest she needs quite badly at the moment," he added quietly, his eyes boring into Trip's in an attempt to get his human, or not, friend to take a close look at T'Pol.

Trip managed to work his way through his anger at Kov's backstabbing to look again at T'Pol. _Really_ look at her for the first time since he'd entered the room. Oh, he'd _looked_ at her. He hadn't seen her in months and she was still breathtakingly beautiful. But now he looked at her face, the lines that creased her skin, the way her eyes were dull rather than shining as they might normally be. Her slumped shoulders, their set indicating someone who was defeated. Someone who had no hope.

Someone with no place to turn and no one to turn to. He closed his eyes for a minute, taking a deep, cleansing breath.

 _What do I do?_

 _Let her see_ , came the reply at once. _Her opinion, in the long run, will not matter. Your friend Kov is right. She needs reassurance and what he does may give it to her. Do not be so hard on Kov, Charles. He is, and will be, your friend. He is doing all that is in his power to help you. Do not chastise him for that._

". . .ll right?" T'Pol's voice came to him through the haze.

"He's fine, Commander," he heard Kov saying. "He is considering. His mind works much differently now."

"I'm sorry, Kov," Trip said at once. "You're trying to help me. You have been since I called you. I shouldn't have said that."

"There is no offense where none is taken," Kov smiled slightly. "No need for sorrow or apology."

"T'Pol you're about to see something pretty horrible," Trip said flatly. "I'd rather you never saw it, but if it'll help you decide to let me do this then I guess it's just gonna have to be what it'll be." He sat down again, closing his eyes.

"I'm sometimes more prone to anger of late," he explained gently. "For that I apologize to you as well. I would never lash out physically, but my tongue does get away from me now and again. Go ahead and take a look. You'll see that worry about me is wasted. I'm more than capable of taking care of myself."

T'Pol regarded him for some time, judging what he had said. Finally she glanced at Kov, suddenly unsure of what to do.

"What will I see?" she asked plainly.

"Hope."

STE

"Commander, there is a shuttle approaching," Travis called out.

"We're being hailed," Hoshi said almost at the same time. "For you Commander," she looked up.

"On screen," Malcolm ordered. The shining black face of Julio Givens appeared seconds later.

"Hiya Mal!" the other man said from behind a large grin. "How ya doing?"

"Hello Julio," Malcolm smiled. "Fancy seeing you in the neighborhood."

"We had a drop here and I heard you guys were in town so I thought I'd holler. Got time for some lunch? I got some prime rib straight from Earth and a half-bottle of Andorian wine. Interested?"

"I'm always interested in prime rib," Malcolm replied with a snort. "And don't you mean Andorian ale?"

"Nope, this is a wine. Pretty good, really. Not really sweet, but not nearly as dry as Earth wines. And it's blue of course," he added.

"Of course," Malcolm nodded. "Sure, come on in. Port side collar."

"Be there in about ten minutes," Julio nodded and the screen went blank.

"Well, I suppose I'll be going to the port side docking collar," Reed rose from his seat. "Lieutenant Sato will you accompany me please? Lieutenant Mayweather you have the bridge."

"Aye, Commander, I have the bridge," Travis nodded, calling his relief to the helm. Hoshi called a relief as well and then joined Reed near the door.

"Call me if you need me," Reed ordered and then exited, followed closely by Sato.

"Why do you want me along, Commander?" Hoshi asked suddenly.

"I thought you might like to sample this Andorian wine," Reed smiled down at her. "And it saved you the trouble of trying to invite yourself." She had the grace to blush at that, but smiled at the same time.

"Well, is it so bad that I enjoy your company, Commander?" she asked.

"My company, or knowing what's going on?" he kidded, and her blush deepened along with her grin.

"Touche, Commander," she acknowledged the hit. "I do like to know what's happening."

"Well, in this case, a friend is coming to see me, bearing gifts."

"I remember him from _Acheron_ ," Hoshi nodded, suddenly subdued at the memory of how that ship, and her Captain, had disappeared in an atomic fireball over Azati Prime.

"He has a new job now, I guess," Reed hated lying but had to maintain the charade at least a bit longer.

"He's a good guy," Hoshi admitted. "And smart, too."

"That he certainly is," Reed nodded. "He's not as gifted as you are with languages, but he's not bad."

"He's a lot better than I am at equipment though," Hoshi pointed out. "And at least as good at decryption."

"But not nearly as cute," Reed said suddenly and Hoshi's blush deepened once more, her face hot.

"I'd hope not," she managed to reply.

STE

"Jonathon, I think we're going to declare the operation over in another hour," Ross said gently. He had gotten about as much rest as Jon had over the last three days. "Everyone is accounted for that we have a record of being inside at the time of the explosion. The entire area has been swept three times by EU security as well as your Major Hayes and his MACOs. I think we can pronounce the embassy secure other than the damage. Once we do that, we can start setting things in order again. Clear away the debris and get started checking our structural integrity."

"So many dead," Jon sighed, looking at the make shift environmental tent being used as a temporary morgue. "After the Xindi attack so few look pale in comparison but. . .somehow this almost seems worse."

"It's because of what we know," Ross nodded in agreement. "Being attacked out of the blue is bad enough. An attack potentially being carried out by an ally is something else again, I'm afraid." He looked at Jon then.

"Have you heard from Forrest yet?" his voice was barely audible.

"No, but that doesn't surprise me," Jon admitted. "He may still be trying to figure out what to do or who to talk to. There doesn't seem to be any clearly drawn sides at the moment. And if he talks to the wrong one and this gets out, we could be looking at a major PR fallout at home."

"I've reported that the investigation was in your hands and that of your security team," Ross told him. "I hate to lay that on you, Jon, but if I admit to having my own people investigating, then I'm going to have to report what T'Pol found to State. I really, _really_ don't want to do that."

"No, I suppose not," Jon sighed. "We'll deal with it, somehow. For now my primary concern is the safety of you and your remaining people. The investigation won't be stalled or placed on back burners, but it will take second place to preventing any more casualties or attacks."

"I think that's a good plan," Ross nodded. "I hate to leave you but now that my quarters are clear, I really would like to rest for a bit. I'm too old for this, Jon," he smiled tiredly.

"I have the same problem," Jon nodded. "I'm going to sack out in the shuttle again I think."

"We do have guest quarters here in the embassy," Ross pointed out. "And they're clear. You can use one of them, get a decent night's rest. You need it as much as I do."

"You know, I think I'll take you up on that."

"You can draw clean issue from the commissary," Ross added. "At least I think you can," he added with a frown. "I'll have to check. The quarters should have toiletries and a robe at least."

"That sounds a lot better than the couch on the pod," Jon nodded. "And I admit I'm too tired to even think about flying to _Enterprise_."

"Go get some sleep, Jon."

STE

T'Pol was feeling much better about her prospects for the future as she answered her door for the second time today. She was alone once more, Trip and Kov having departed after their discussion.

T'Pol was conflicted over her feelings where Trip Tucker was concerned. When in his presence she could almost feel a gentle pull toward him, one that she couldn't identify or understand. On a base level Trip was aesthetically pleasing, but T'Pol didn't think that could explain everything about how she felt when he was close.

The revelations contained on the PADD Kov had given her were eye opening to say the least, and explained at least in part how he had survived the demise of the _Acheron_. Kov had in no way exaggerated when he'd said that Trip was much more than he had been before.

The calm reassurance that Trip had always had was now much stronger, no doubt buttressed by his physical and martial prowess, abilities she had never realized he had. Trip had changed a great deal since leaving Starfleet. He was no longer the brilliant young engineer playing tourist that he had been when she'd first met him. Where he had once walked with an easy gait, always interested in seeing what there was to see around the next bend, he now walked like a predator.

Trip might be the one human she knew who could walk down the streets of Vulcan, or any other world for that matter, and feel no fear whatsoever. She felt a tiny shiver run through her and immediately suppressed it. Trip's newly revealed strength and ability was very appealing to her base Vulcan.

And he was going to _fight for her_. She had to suppress another shiver at that. Kov had explained to Trip what his victory would mean, and it was clear that Trip planned to release her once she was declared his. She would then be forever free to do as she pleased, marry who she chose, if she chose to marry at all. No other 'arrangement' could be made once she had been won in combat and declared free.

Only she was wondering if she _wanted_ to be 'free' of Trip. She suppressed that thought as she opened her door to find her mother waiting.

"It is completely illogical that I must come to Shi'kar to see you when you could have stayed in my home instead," T'Les said at once.

"Peace and long life to you as well, Mother," T'Pol said drily. "Would you like to enter?"

"Why have you not been to see me?" T'Les demanded as she entered. "We have much to discuss and there are pla-"

"I have nothing to discuss with you, Mother," T'Pol cut her off smoothly. "Nor do I care anything about the plans you are making. That are of no concern to me. As to my remaining in the city, I have been making arrangements for my entrance into Gol after the wedding. It was illogical to travel to your home and then return here this morning."

"Gol?" T'Les allowed her surprise to show. "You cannot go to Gol, T'Pol. You must remain with Koss and complete your bond."

"There will be no bond with Koss," T'Pol suppressed her revulsion at the thought of being bonded to Koss. "I will marry him for your sake but I will not live with him, bond with him, nor bear his children. I have already informed him of this."

"What was his response?" T'Les asked.

"He smiled at me, and told me he looked forward to 'taming' me," T'Pol told her flatly. "I suggested that my training would make it simple for me to make his death look accidental."

"Smiled?" T'Les' eyebrow rose at that. "Koss smiled at you?" Her alarm was clear.

"Indeed," T'Pol nodded. Her mother's concern was not lost on her.

"T'Pol are you sure?" T'Les seemed almost desperate. "Was he emotional?"

"Very much so," T'Pol nodded. "No proper Vulcan would have behaved in such a manner. He was threatening to me. I will not repeat the nature of those threats but you may assume they were. . .carnal in nature." T'Pol's face tinted slightly. "It is my belief that he is of the _V'tosh ka'tur_ ," she added. "I will not be bonded to such an individual. I will marry him for your sake, but there will be no cohabitation and certainly no bond."

"I must go," T'Les said suddenly. "Be watchful, daughter." With that the older woman was out the door and gone before T'Pol had the opportunity to say more.

Strange.

STE

T'Les found Soval at the office of the Foreign Ministry, working in his capacity as the Vulcan Ambassador to Earth. Since he was at home he would be required to submit a detailed report of his observations and endure a debriefing which would serve no purpose other than to allow a bureaucrat to check a box on a form. He looked up sharply as the door to his office burst open, T'Les entering unannounced as a younger Vulcan woman tried to stop her.

"I'm sorry, Ambassador," the younger woman spoke. "I can call-"

"That will not be necessary," Soval held up his hand. "You may return to your duties." The younger woman bowed slightly and left the office, closing the door behind her.

"T'Les, why are you here?," he spoke evenly.

"Soval, we must speak in private at once," T'Les said without preamble. "I have just learned something that may change everything. I cannot, dare not, repeat it here."

"Very well," Soval suppressed his concern as he rose. "I was about to take my lunch. We may do so together." He left the office, T'Les following. They were almost out of the building when Soval's superior stopped them.

"Soval, do you not have a briefing?" Minister Subat asked.

"It is time for the noon meal," Soval reminded the other man. "And T'Les and I are discussing the imminent marriage of my ward, T'Pol. As her male guardian I must take part."

"Quite correct," Subat nodded. "Very well, we will see to your debrief another time, after the ceremony. When is that, by the way?"

"It is scheduled for tomorrow at my home," T'Les replied. "Your presence would be most agreeable should you desire to attend."

"I may do so then, time and my duties allowing," Subat nodded. "Your debrief will be scheduled on the third day from now, Soval, to allow for this ceremony and any other attendant duties. I trust that is sufficient?"

"I am indebted to you," Soval nodded deeply.

"Perhaps I will see you there," Subat lifted a hand. "Live long and prosper."

"Peace and long life," Soval answered for himself and T'Les. The two of them continued on their way out of the building. They now had an officially recorded reason to be seen speaking quietly.

"What is it that has disturbed you so, T'Les," he asked brusquely. "If I did not know better I would think meditation is indicated for you."

"Soval I have spoken to T'Pol this morning," she said. "Koss showed emotion to T'Pol last night when making several vile threats against her."

"That is improper," Soval frowned slightly before he could suppress it.

"He smiled at her, Soval," T'Les stressed. "She threatened him with death should he try to force her, and he smiled in reply, and told her he looked forward to taming her."

Soval suddenly understood the reason for T'Les' concern.

"That would mean that Koss. . . ." Soval trailed off, reluctant to say it. T'Les possessed no such reluctance.

"Koss is probably a Romulan, Soval."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

"If Commodore Archer is still on the planet, should you inform him that you still live?"

Trip looked at Kov, surprised at the idea. He hadn't thought about that. He hadn't considered the impact it could have on Jon to learn that Trip was still alive.

"What do you think?" he asked Kov after a minute of reflection. "I guess he'll learn about it soon after. I'm assumin' the news will travel pretty quick, but maybe not."

"If you do not care how learning that you still live may affect him then it is of no consequence," Kov pointed out. "I suggest only that if you wish him to learn of it from you, it would be wise to tell him before hand."

"Yeah, I suppose it might have an impact," Trip mused. "I said some pretty harsh stuff to 'im right before the end, there. I meant it, mind you, but he may be sufferin' because he thinks I'm dead. That really ain't right," he murmured. "I got to start thinking more about this kinda stuff, Kov. I don't know where my mind is, anymore."

"You have gone, and are still going, through a great many changes, my friend," Kov shrugged. "It has to be distracting. Do not be so hard on yourself."

Trip looked at his friend, considering how lucky he was to have such a friend as Kov.

"You know, I don't deserve a friend like you, Kov," Trip admitted suddenly. "I might have once upon a time, but these days, I just don't rate that high."

"You think too little of yourself my friend," Kov smiled. "And because of you I was reunited with my father and left the _Vah'klas_ to work for Janos Lines. I have a very good life these days, Trip, and were it not for you, that might not be true."

"I appreciate it," Trip nodded. "I reckon whatever you think is best we'll do it, Kov. About Jon, I mean. It probably would be better to hear it from me, I guess. Especially considering what I'ma do tomorrow." He paused, tongue poking his cheek out.

"What?" Kov asked. "That look is familiar to most of us who with you. What are you thinking?"

"I'm hungry," Trip admitted. "You hungry?"

"Trip, we just ate two hours ago."

"Yeah. So? Gotta be somewhere around here to get somethin' to eat. Right?"

STE

"Your concern is understandable," Soval told T'Les. "However, it is not possible that he is _V'tosh ka'tur_? Or perhaps he is using this as a tactic to attempt to intimidate T'Pol?"

"If that was his aim then he has miscalculated," T'Les replied. "She plans to enter Gol immediately afterward and remain there for at least a year. She has no plans to bond with Koss and will not attend his needs nor bear his children."

"How will this affect your agreement with Kovek?" Soval's eyebrow rose.

"She must comply with Koss' demands," T'Les replied. "Too much is at stake for her whims to interfere. You will see that she does."

"This was your idea, T'Les," Soval reminded her. "I have alienated T'Pol completely from myself in order to assist you thus far in this matter. She has informed me that I am now considered dead to her. As are you," he added.

"That does not surprise me," T'Les admitted. "She need only play her part in this. Her regard for me is of no consequence compared to the recovery of the Kir'shara."

"I find those words harsh for a parent," Soval's tone was strident for a Vulcan. To a human he would have sounded as if he were ordering a meal.

"I must look beyond myself," T'Les replied. "It is regrettable that I must lose my daughter, but this must be done."

"You seem to have no regard for the cost to T'Pol," Soval almost narrowed his eyes. "She has no part in your follies, T'Les. And you have made me a party to her entrapment. I have dishonored myself to her in aiding you. I am not certain I should have."

"It is too late now, Soval," T'Les warned. "All is in motion and it cannot be stopped. This must happen."

"Yet it appears that it will not," Soval barely resisted the urge to raise both eyebrows along with that statement. "T'Pol has every right to be apprehensive concerning Koss. And it is certainly her right to enter Gol at any time. So it is and has always been among us. Neither you nor Koss can stop it."

"I must be permitted to return to my work," T'Les' voice brooked no argument. "Too much depends on it. T'Pol cannot be allowed to endanger that."

"It is you that has endangered it with your carelessness," Soval responded more harshly than he had intended. "I have been a party to this foolishness long enough, T'Les. I brought T'Pol this far, but no further. If she refuses you, that is not my concern."

"Despite what is at stake?"

"One of the human religions has a proverb," Soval replied. "'What does it profit a man to gain the world should it cost him his soul.' I have never quite understood that, despite Admiral Forrest's attempts to explain it to me. I am beginning to see now, however, what it alludes to. I will play no further part in your scheme to use your daughter in this way."

"I do not know what Koss plans for her, but if she is harmed, or lost, her death at his hands will be directly attributable to you and this endless fascination you have with a vagabond who wanders the desert. If he has the. . .if he has what he claims, why does he need your assistance in this matter? Why does he simply not go and collect the. . .the item?"

"Because what he claims to have does not recognize the ground anymore," T'Les replied evenly. "Too long has passed and no landmarks remain. That is what makes my work so important. Without access to historical texts and maps we may never be able to retrace the steps of S. . .of He who wrote," T'Les caught herself. "That is why."

Soval was silenced by the logic of her argument. Assuming that this Syrran was not a liar and charlatan and really _did_ possess the _katra_ of Surak himself, then it was entirely probable that the essence of the long dead Vulcan leader would hold no memory that would help Syrran now. Centuries of natural changes would have rendered any landmark known to his essence unusable in the present day.

"As I said, I have done all I intend to in this matter," Soval reiterated. "What T'Pol does, she will do. I will be no party to any further subterfuge against her. And should you attempt to somehow involve me, you will not succeed." Which was practically a threat coming from a Vulcan. He might as well have said 'You will regret it.'

"Do not think that you can circumvent the prophecy, Soval," T'Les warned, and for the first time Soval could see the warning light of madness in her eyes. What he had written off as an emotional response to a potentially historically significant discovery was rapidly becoming an obsession for the woman.

"T'Les, you should meditate," he said calmly. "You are clearly unsettled and in need of it. Once you are settled you will see more clearly."

"Do not speak to me of meditation, Soval," T'Les almost snarled. To a human she would have sounded as if she had stifled a cough. "I can see in your eyes that you think me gripped of madness. When the. . .when we succeed, you will see."

Suddenly T'Les turned and stalked away. Soval watched her go with growing concern.

This would not end well.

STE

T'Pol arrived at the _Argonaut_ in the early evening, her single bag over her shoulder. Her personal property remained aboard _Enterprise_ as yet, and now she would leave it there until this issue was decided.

"Good evening, Commander," Kov spoke from the cargo door. "Welcome aboard." T'Pol regarded Kov carefully, aware suddenly that Kov was no longer the eager if simple young Vulcan she had met some time before. He was quietly confident in himself in a way he had seemed to lack before. She wondered how much Trip had to do with that.

"Good evening, Kov," she chose to reply in kind. Working among humans had allowed her to use their greeting with no difficulty. "I must thank you for the offer of a place to stay this evening."

"It is not a concern," Kov waved it away. "I doubt that you were comfortable staying another night where everyone knew where to find you."

"Indeed," T'Pol nodded. She was loathe to admit it but being able to stay aboard the ship tonight was a relief to her in many ways.

"Evenin' T'Pol," one of those ways spoke from the shadows. As she watched Trip Tucker emerged from the darkness of the ship's interior.

"Captain," she nodded carefully.

"You can call me Trip, ya know," he grinned.

"Trip, or T'rip, would be a female name on Vulcan," she replied. "It is improper to refer to a male by a female name."

"How 'bout Charles, then?" he said, his grin widening into a smile. "That's the name I'm usin' anyway. Charles Anthony."

"Your first and middle names," T'Pol nodded. "A good choice and one unlikely to cause a problem."

"I didn't know you knew my middle name, T'Pol," he teased lightly and she hated the slight flush she felt creeping up her face.

"You have used it on more than one occasion in my presence, Captain," she replied frostily.

"Back to Captain then, are we?" his smile died as suddenly as it had appeared. "Well, whatever suits you, I guess." He turned suddenly and retreated back into the ship, leaving her staring after him.

"Let's get you aboard, Commander," Kov said, waving her inside. "Your quarters are ready."

She followed Kov into the ship's interior, memorizing the lay out as she went. Kov led her down a passage way to a hatch along the outside hull. He entered a code into the keypad and the doorway slide open silently.

"You should find everything you need, but if not just call. I'll get it for you," Kov told her. "We will dine in approximately one hour. You will find suitable foodstuffs among the fare."

"I am in your debt," T'Pol nodded her thanks.

"There is no debt," Kov assured her. "Just favors amongst colleagues. I will see you for dinner." He turned to go.

"Kov," T'Pol's voice stopped him and he turned.

"Do you know if Koss is a practitioner of the ways of _V'Tosh Ka'tur_?" she asked quietly.

"Not to my knowledge," Kov replied. "While it is possible that he is and I would not have heard it, it is unlikely, Commander. It is a small community. May I ask the nature of your inquiry?"

"Koss exhibited emotion in my presence last night," she decided to explain. "He. . . _smiled_ at me as he informed me of his plans for me. His smile was in response to my reminder that as a trained agent of the V'Shar making his death look accidental would be well within my skill set."

"He smiled?" Kov's eyebrow rose at that. "That is. . .surprising," he settled for saying. "I will need to check something," he said more to himself than to her. "Please excuse me." Without another word Kov departed. T'Pol felt a tendril of unease and wondered if it had been improper for her to ask such a thing. She put the feeling away and entered the small but richly appointed cabin.

It seemed that Kov traveled well.

STE

Trip was already seated when Kov arrived in the small Captain's galley. T'Pol arrived less than a minute later.

The meal was eaten in silence for the most part, each attendant lost in his, or her, thoughts. As the meal was finished, Kov looked at T'Pol.

"Koss is most definitely not a member of the _V'tosh ka'tur_ ," he said without preamble. "I have made inquiries concerning this and his name is not know to any that I have contacted. As I said, it is a small community, so it is unlikely that Koss would be a practitioner and someone among us not know of it."

"I see," T'Pol nodded, not allowing her unease to show.

"What's all that now?" Trip asked, looking from one to the other of them.

"The Commander had made an inquiry into the _V'Tosh Ka'tur_ , and any connection to Koss. I have found none."

"What made you think he might be?" Trip asked her. She reluctantly explained the meeting with Koss the night before. By the time she was finished Trip's eyes were almost glowing they were so bright. She also noted a slight bulge along his jaw line which she assumed was his tongue, a favorite mannerism of Trip's she knew from their time working together aboard _Enterprise_.

"So if he ain't _V'tosh ka'tur_ , what is he?" Trip asked.

"I confess I do not know," T'Pol spoke with reluctance. "I had assumed he was _V'tosh ka'tur_ but if he is not, there is no logical explanation for his behavior."

"There might be a logical reason in his mind," Trip said quietly. "He was tryin' to intimidate you, T'Pol. He's a snake. That's all."

"Do not underestimate him, Captain," T'Pol replied at once. "I would not wish to see you injured in this endeavor."

"I heal pretty fast," Trip shrugged. "And he'll have to work for it, anyway. What time do we need to be where we're going?"

"We are traveling to my mother's home," T'Pol explained. "We will need to arrive by mid-morning so that I may prepare for the ceremony. The wedding is scheduled for mid-day. What you would call noon, though it is different here."

"We can fly there in the shuttle," Kov offered. "Is there sufficient room to land?"

"Yes," T'Pol nodded. "But such an expense is unnecessary. We can secure ground transport with no difficulty."

"Flyin' is safer, statistically," Trip grinned. "Besides, we won't be there long, anyway."

"Captain, _Trip_ , please do not take this lightly," T'Pol warned again. "Koss may not be a part of the Vulcan military but he will be a formidable opponent. Even for you."

"Doubt it," Trip snorted. "But I won't take that for granted, I promise," he added to calm her.

"Please ensure that you do not," she stressed. Kov had to fight off a grin at the by-play between the two and finally lost the battle. He stood abruptly.

"You two will make a very attractive couple," he said seriously. "Your children will undoubtedly be beautiful. If you'll excuse me I need to check something. Good evening Commander."

The pair were still blushing when he departed, laughing quietly.

STE

Jon woke to darkness and realized he had slept through the evening. He had been on the verge of exhaustion, no he'd been past it. Now he was simply tired and sore. He rose and stretched, then went to the shower, where he stood beneath the hot water until the timer expired. He reset it and then showered himself clean. Dressing in the utilities that he had picked up in the commissary Jon left his quarters and went in search of Ambassador Ross.

"Commodore," an embassy Marine called out. "Ambassador Ross would like to see you in his office at your convenience. I can show you the way."

"Very well," Jon nodded and followed along. "Can you tell me how my crew members are faring? I have several members of my crew down here helping along with several MACOs assigned to _Enterprise_."

"I know that all personnel were issued mandatory stand-down orders last night at dusk local, sir," the Lance Corporal informed him. "Major Hayes and his people billeted with the security forces and were already out and gone this morning. I don't know exactly where your crewmen are at the moment but I can find out if you need to know."

"That's all right," Jon shook his head. "They're probably assisting with work details. Thank you."

"Welcome sir. Here we are, Commodore." The young Marine pointed to Ross' door. "He's expecting you, sir." Jon nodded and walked to the door, knocking abruptly.

"Come!" he heard and opened the door, stepping inside.

"Come in, Commodore," Ross waved him over. "You're just in time as we're receiving a call from Admiral Forrest." Jon took a seat as the screen lit up with Forrest's visage.

"Gentlemen," he nodded. "This should be secure but we'll be using the Cadian protocol during this message." Jon frowned but Ross merely nodded as Forrest started into a rail of all things this and that but saying nothing really. Archer was about to pop a blood vessel by the time the message ended but Ross raised a hand.

"Cadian refers to Andrew Cadian, Commodore, a rather gifted young man who figured a way to encode a hidden message in a transmission like the one we just received. That message is encrypted of course, and almost impossible to see or find if you don't know what you're looking for."

"Never heard of it," Jon admitted.

"Nor I suspect had Admiral Forrest until now," Ross nodded. "It's a Ministry of State protocol that we adapted to help us communicate securely with our embassy personnel." He entered a code into his desk computer and soon the message, the real message was on screen.

Basically Forrest had taken the problem to the President direct, who had referred to experts in the State Department that had assured the President that no such attack was possible. Forrest had presented the findings to the President and argued for at least some caution, and he had won, at least for now.

The message was warning Jon and Gavin Ross that there was a group within the State Ministry that were determined to prevent any response at all to the attack in the embassy, citing that it was imprudent to disturb the historically good relations between Earth and Vulcan over an insignificant number of casualties.

"Insignificant?" Archer was stunned.

"No one under my command is 'insignificant'!" Ross was incensed. "That son-of-," he cut himself off. "I'll see someone pays for that remark. If I have to I'll make it public."

"Forrest indicates that the President is likely to side with the State crowd on this," Jon pointed out.

"Let him," Ross was savage at this point. "We find evidence that at least part of the Vulcan Security apparatus was involved in this attack, and that's after the way Vulcan abandoned us to the Xindi, and they want to write it off in the name of "Earth/Vulcan relations'? It will be a cold day in hell before I allow that to happen." He turned to Archer.

"Were you serious about running for President?" he demanded.

"Well, yes," Jon nodded, caught off guard by the abrupt question but recovering quickly. "I admit I'm not a politician, but I do enjoy a good working relationship with other races, Vulcan aside."

"And you're a hero," Ross pointed out, clearly calculating. "It's twenty-five months until elections," he noted. "Well, until the primary, anyway," he added. "Would you be running on a party line or simply an independent?"

"I hadn't thought that far," Jon admitted. "I honestly only decided I might do it less than a week ago. I'm fed up with Earth always sucking the hind tit to Vulcan. I want it to stop, and I want our programs to make the leaps and jumps we're capable of if we stop the Vulcan interference. I hate to give up space travel and exploration myself, but. . .I've got to do something," he shrugged helplessly. "I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired."

"So am I," Ross nodded. "You don't get to be the EU Ambassador to Vulcan without having connections," he said frankly. "If you're serious, then you can count on my support. But be sure. Once you're in and I throw in behind you, I expect you to see it through to the end. Understand?"

"Yes sir," Jon nodded. "I can already see I hadn't thought far enough ahead," he admitted.

"That's all right," Ross nodded. "That's what you need people like me for. Let us worry about the politics while you kiss the babies. I'll make some calls and start feeling people out while you do some soul searching and make sure this is a path you want to follow."

"I'll do that," Jon promised.

STE

"Nice place," Trip observed as T'Pol's childhood home came into view. The shuttle slowed to orbit the home twice while T'Pol looked the grounds over.

"It is pleasant," T'Pol admitted. "It was a good place to raise children."

"Probably still would be if not for the neighbors," Trip drawled.

"It's not the neighbors so much as the visitors," Kov remarked, pointing to a procession of figures climbing the steps the home of T'Les, mother of T'Pol.

"True enough."

T'Pol landed the shuttle as if she had flown it hundreds of times, settling not far from the house.

"You will need to keep your robe on and hood up," T'Pol told Trip. "Staying on the shuttle until the ceremony might be better. Kov and I can intimate that you are a monk. As I have announced my intention to enter the monastery at Gol immediately after the wedding, that would be plausible."

"Might also make Koss want to come and see if he can talk me out of it," Trip warned, then smiled slightly. "Second thought, I'd like that just fine."

"We must do this as planned, Trip, or Commander T'Pol's problems will simply increase," Kov warned. "Stick to the program."

"You know I will," Trip sighed. "Can't you just let a fella dream a little? Ain't no harm in just imagining killin' a snake. Right?"

"No, I suppose not," Kov gave a sigh of his own. "But let's face it, Trip. You have a habit of making things like that a reality. Today of all days we do not need that complication."

"Okay, that's true," Trip acceded. "I'm officially on my better behavior," he raised a hand in the form of a promise.

"Should that not be 'best' behavior?" T'Pol asked, eyebrow raised.

"I'm savin' that for the honeymoon," he grinned and T'Pol's face tinged green at that.

"Trip," Kov was trying not to laugh as he sounded like he was chiding his friend.

"It is unseemly for the two of you to 'gang-up' I believe is the phrase, on me," T'Pol came as close as Trip had ever heard her to complaining.

"Don't mind us, T'Pol," Trip told her easily. "We're just jokin' around. As for you, we're not ganging up on you. Both of us are here because we like you and want to see you be allowed to get on with your life as you see fit. You're our friend, T'Pol, and all of Earth owes you a debt whether they want to admit to it or not. I'm here to make sure that debt is paid, that's all."

T'Pol could not think of a satisfactory reply to that statement so merely nodded her thanks.

"I'll just stay here in the shuttle until you come and get me," Trip told Kov. "How will you explain your being here?"

"Officially I am here with my father," Kov said evenly. "Commander T'Pol arranged for him to receive an invitation. His presence should keep things above board."

"Koss' father won't try to interfere?" Trip asked.

"Almost certainly," Kov nodded. "But my father is higher in rank and position than Kovek, Koss' father. That will restrain his actions so long as my father does not believe we are being duplicitous or deceitful."

"Kind of a Vulcan version of 'my dad can beat up your dad'," Trip nodded. "Smart move. Are we being duplicitous or deceitful?" he asked.

"No," T'Pol admitted. "Everything Kov and yourself have outlined is completely within the law and customs of Vulcan. You have done well," she admitted.

"All Kov, Commander," Trip told her. "Be my turn soon enough," he added. "Now you best be goin'. I'm guessin' that's your mom standing there," he pointed.

"Indeed," T'Pol followed his gesture to see T'Les examining the shuttle. "We should go."

"Better behavior," Kov raised a finger to Trip as he made his way to the hatch. T'Pol waited until Kov was off the shuttle before looking at Trip.

"It is gratifying that you would aid me, Captain," she said carefully. "I do not know what you hope to gain from all this however." She tried to keep her voice neutral but the new and improved Trip Tucker was hard to fool or hide from.

"I _am_ going to get you out a _mess_ that was not of your making," Trip told her flatly. "That's what I'm doing. Things are changing, T'Pol. I mean changing in a major way. Ain't got the time to get into it, but. . .days of Earth being run over roughshod? Definitely over. No matter who it hurts."

"You sacrificed a lot to go with _Enterprise_ into the Expanse," Trip continued. "And you contracted that _Pan'arr_ syndrome while you were on _Enterprise_ , too. You'd never had to meet Tolaris if not for that. Every bad thing that's happened to you, at least that I know of, was because of _Enterprise_."

"I don't know for a fact that all this," he waved toward the house, "is because of that, but it don't matter. See, we owe you something. I aim to pay it back. Today." His final words were flat and had the ring of finality to them that made Kov wince as he stood outside.

"You are risking a great deal for me, Trip," T'Pol said gently. "I am indebted to you."

"No, we're indebted to _you_ ," Trip shook his head. "And there might not be near as much risk as you reckon. Now, you better go cause I think your mother is headin' this way." He pointed and T'Pol turned to see that T'Les was indeed making her way toward the small ship.

Without another word she took her bag and exited the ship, leaving Trip Tucker alone in the shuttle. Well, not quite alone, though she didn't know that.

 _Am I doin' the right thing_? he asked himself.

 _It is honorably meant which is the important thing_ , he heard inside his mind. _You are doing the right thing_ , the voice added, removing doubt of it's endorsement.

 _Honor is a big thing for you, isn't it?_ Trip asked, relaxing into a now familiar state.

 _Honor means something different to you than most, I believe,_ came the reply. _It is not always about the_ appearance _of honor, but the outcome of the actions you take. You may do something that most consider reprehensible, but did you take such action to right a wrong? To protect an innocent or helpless victim? To preserve the life of another who's time had not yet come and was guilty of no crime? Do you understand?_

 _Think so,_ Trip actually nodded his head. _And I like your version better than ours. It don't restrict me so much._

 _Charles, you must remember that you are incredibly powerful compared to your kind, now_ , came the admonishment. _T'Pol's concern is touching but completely unnecessary. Koss could no more seriously harm us than I can extinguish a star._

 _I know I'm stronger than before,_ Trip nodded again, forgetting it was unnecessary. _I know that I'm faster, stronger, heck even a little taller. All of us are_. He felt rather than heard a sigh within him.

 _It is as I thought_ , he 'heard'. _You do not yet understand the difference between yourself and the others. That is acceptable for now. As you grow and mature, I will teach you all that you need to know. For now, however, Kov is returning_.

 _Already_?

 _Check your chrono,_ he heard the mirth in his thoughts and opened his eyes.

"Damn." He had been sitting here for two hours? He rose and stretched, then reached for the robe lying across the seat behind him. The door rose and Kov stepped inside.

"Preparations are almost complete," he said at once. "The parties are gathering already. You will be considered part of the Bridal party, though T'Les is beside herself over your presence and T'Pol's threat to depart immediately to Gol."

"Does she know it's me, or just think I'm a monk?" Trip asked.

"She thinks you're a monk," Kov nodded. "She's still unhappy. I do not understand her actions, Trip. It is as if she is willing to sacrifice her only child to attain some secret goal. I cannot imagine any job or position being worth the life, or even the alienation, of my offspring."

"Me neither," Trip nodded. "That's just another reason for me to be here. And Kov, I really appreciate all your help. I couldn't have done all this without you."

"True," Kov nodded. "You would have spent all the available time arguing with your future bride," he teased.

"I don't think she's really that into me, Kov," Trip smiled, using an ancient phrase from Earth. "She sorta hinted to me about what I was hopin' to get, and it seemed to me she was tellin' me pretty straight that while she appreciated me steppin' up for her, she-. What?" He stopped as Kov was now shaking silently with laughter.

"She was hoping to hear you say that you wanted her," Kov shook his head sadly. "You are entirely too intelligent to miss all of this Trip."

"Kov, even if she is serious, things ain't what they used to be," Trip sounded helpless. "I've always been attracted to T'Pol, hell who wouldn't be? I won't be able to give her children, or a home except a cabin on a ship or on a station. That ain't no way for her to have to live."

"Unless that is how she _wants_ to live," Kov pointed out. "Do not presume to choose for her what life she wants, my friend. And you will see," he added with a grin. "At any rate, we must go. Put on your robe and raise your hood. Are you taking-, yes, I suppose you had better," he interrupted himself as Trip took a case and strapped it across his back beneath the robe.

"I'm ready," Trip said, his voice now accent-less and flawlessly Vulcan. It still amazed Kov how Trip managed that. Of course, Trip didn't know how he did it either so that wasn't a surprise.

"Even though you speak perfectly, it would be best if you let me answer any questions. Someone may ask a question that you cannot answer correctly. And you may give yourself away. Or possibly become enraged and create a scene that will cause difficulty. In fact, it is likely for the best if you don't speak at all, Charles Tucker," Kov sighed. "Not until the time comes."

"I'll just be the quiet intimidatin' one," Trip chuckled as he raised his hood. "Let's get this rodeo started."

Together the two of them started for T'Les' home, Trip waiting patiently for the moment when he'd be allowed to kill Koss. If he got lucky, he might get to kill the old man, too.

You never knew what might drop in on you.


	9. Chapter 9

_Uploaded early for Freyalyn because she asked so nicely. Enjoy!_

Chapter Nine

Malcolm Reed sat on the bridge of _Enterprise_ wondering what was happening below. Julio had said flat out that Trip was adamant he would stop T'Pol's forced wedding. 'Shotgun weddin', Julio had laughed in Trip's accent. Reed never knew quite how to take the people Trip worked with these days. All of them seemed to have a much better upbeat personality than most other people Reed knew, himself included. This in spite of the fact that Trip had surrounded himself by people every bit as blood thirsty as he himself had become.

Neera might be an exception to that, but then. . .there was definitely a story there, Reed knew. He was certain at one point that Trip and Neera were what the Yanks liked to call 'an item'. Yet now she was at the bookstore and Trip was somewhere in space. Doing whatever he took a notion to do, apparently.

Without Neera.

It wasn't his business, of course, but Reed couldn't help but wonder.

"Commander, it's Commodore Archer, for you," Hoshi broke into his thoughts.

"On screen," Reed ordered.

"He's requesting privacy, sir,' Hoshi said formally. Reed nodded and rose.

"Right then. Ready room. You have the bridge, Lieutenant." Reed strode across the bridge and into the Captain's 'ready room'. The screen lit up and he was soon looking at Commodore Archer.

"You look a bit rested, sir," Reed noted at once.

"I managed to get some sleep last night," Jon nodded. "I'm going to be here at least another day and maybe two, Malcolm. Some of the crew will be returning today as the embassy personnel come back on duty. Phlox will be able to rejoin the ship as well, soon enough. As bad as things are, they're getting better literally by the hour."

"Good to hear, sir," Reed nodded. "Anything new on that front?" he asked carefully.

"Same old thing from the same old places," Archer said tiredly. "Ours not to reason why and all that," he added and Reed nodded again.

"I understand," he said gravely. "We're in fine shape at the moment, sir. Crew a bit anxious of course after the attack but that's only natural. And with a shift off on an away team we're busy enough to keep them from thinking about it too much."

"There is that," Archer nodded. "I suppose T'Pol is getting married about now," he changed the subject. "I'd like to be there to support her, but I was ordered not to be there even if invited. And I probably would cause a scene," he admitted.

"Probably for the better, sir," Reed nodded, knowing exactly how true that was. One day he was going to get caught out knowing so much. When that happened he figured he'd end up working for Trip.

"Anyway, I should be reachable at all times here at the embassy," Archer continued. "I don't expect you to need me but if for some reason you do, just call. They'll track me down."

"Will do, sir."

"Archer out." The screen went dark and Reed sat back, considering. There was nothing in that message that indicated privacy, so it had to be what he'd said about 'same old'. That likely meant that the State Department, the Foreign Ministry to those raised and educated in proper ways, had decided that to press the issue would be counter to Earth/Vulcan relations, or the equivalent dribble. Could be something else, but that was the usual trouble in something like this.

"Bastards," Reed muttered. They'd be willing to allow the deaths of so many UE personnel go without justice if it meant they could ring some concession or other from the Vulcans for it.

Knowing Trip was about to upset their apple cart at least a bit brightened his outlook considerably.

STE

"Who is this?" a Vulcan Kov didn't recognize demanded, pointing to the robed figure of Trip Tucker.

"He is here as a part of the bridal party," Kov settled for saying. "As am I and my father, Minister Kuvak." As he had hoped, mention of his father's name had deflected any further questions. Kov had not said that Trip was _with_ the Minister, just that all three were part of the bridal party.

Kov very carefully kept his distance from any of Koss' family and a discreet distance as well from his father. Kov had no desire for his father to suffer from what was about to happen, even if his father had offered to assist once he knew what was happening. His presence was enough, so far as Kov was concerned.

Despite his father's disappointment at Kov's decision to embrace his emotions, the two now had a decent relationship and Kov was grateful for it. Trip and T'Pol were greatly responsible for that renewed relationship and Kov's father was aware of it.

"The time approaches," a well dressed Vulcan announced. Those who had been circulating among guests began to form around the ceremonial area laid out on the grounds.

"The bride will come from the home once all is in readiness," Kov said very softly so Trip could hear. "Remember, you must wait for her to ring the gong and select you as her champion. Do not move until then."

Trip nodded his understanding, slightly irritated that Kov felt another warning was needed. Of course, the Vulcan was right that Trip had of late been prone to jump the gun. He really needed to work on that.

Just then T'Pol emerged from her mother's home and Trip felt his breath catch in his lungs. She was absolutely resplendent in a lavender gown and head piece, a thin veil over her face. Two other women, kin to T'Pol he assumed, followed her though neither could hold a candle to T'Pol's beauty. T'Les followed last, looking for all of Vulcan like the wicked witch of the north.

Trip managed to catch himself just before speaking and realized that Kov had been right to warn him. He stilled himself, determined to be still until time. T'Pol took her place before the priest but when Koss offered his fingers in the Vulcan kiss, Trip couldn't remember what it was called, she refused.

"This is the Vulcan way," the priest intoned from his place at the center of the small circle where the ceremony would be taking place. "This is the Vulcan heart, the Vulcan-" The priest stopped as T'Pol rose abruptly and took three steps in quick succession, picked up a mallet, and before anyone realized what she as doing struck the gong.

The sound was louder than Trip had expected. He could barely see from under his hood, but those faces he could see were very nearly registering shock at what had just happened.

Kov was watching Koss. Having the advantage of knowing what was going to happen meant that he wasn't distracted by T'Pol moving to the gong. Kov kept his face carefully neutral as he glanced toward his father. Kuvak was also watching Koss, his own face a carefully modulated mask of Vulcan correctness.

It shouldn't have surprised Kov so much when the look of bewildered fury crossed Koss' face. The enraged male actually took a step toward T'Pol, his hands clenched into fists, before thinking better of it and halting. A quick glance toward the officiating priest confirmed that the priest was watching Koss very carefully, now.

T'Les was livid, though only a Vulcan could see it.

"No," she called in the Vulcan equivalent of a shout. "I forbid this!"

"Be silent," T'Pol and the Priest replied in unison. T'Pol looked defiant as she turned her gaze from her mother to Koss, who was still battling his fury.

"Kalifee." T'Pol said simply.

STE

Soval was present of course, despite the fact that his ward no longer viewed him as family. Or even a living being for that matter. The turmoil that his ruined relationship caused him was the source of many hours of meditation over the last three days. It unusual for a Vulcan to experience regret, but Soval was doing just that; regretting his assistance to T'Les.

He had seen T'Pol moving to the gong and new instinctively what she was about to do. For whatever reason he turned to see Koss' reaction, mostly because of the report that he had smiled at T'Pol as he threatened her.

The look of rage that passed across Koss' face was all the confirmation that Soval needed to verify the fear that T'Les had spoken aloud.

Koss, indeed, was very likely a Romulan.

STE

"T'Pol, daughter of T'Les, child of Vulcan, Thou hast sounded the kalifee," the priest said calmly. "Hast Thou a champion to fight Thy claim?"

"I do," T'Pol replied calmly. "One who has traveled far to prevent this forced marriage from taking place."

"And where is Thy champion, T'Pol?" the priest asked, ignoring the stir among those present.

T'Pol walked very deliberately to the robed figure standing alone at the edge of the circle.

"I choose this one," she pointed to Trip. He stepped forward, hood still up, arms folded before him with his hands inside the robes sleeves.

"Doest Thou accept being named champion of T'Pol in this matter?" the priest asked. The hood rose slightly.

"I do," came the reply in flawless high Vulcan. The language caused another stir among the Vulcans, though an outsider would not have noted any change.

"Step forward then," the priest commanded. Trip stepped forward three steps and halted.

"Show Thyself, and give Thy name" the priest commanded. Trip raised his hands then and pulled the hood down, revealing himself for the first time.

"My name is Tucker," he said, still in that flawless Vulcan that he couldn't explain. "Charles Tucker. Known to my people as Lord Grim, to the Xindi as the Destroyer, and to T'Pol," he glanced at her and for some reason he could not explain felt the urge to add, "as _ashayam_."

This time even an outsider would have recognized the stir among the crowd.

"This is ridiculous!" Koss all but shouted, not realizing that he was drawing attention to himself. "This man, this _human_ , is no challenge to me!"

"Then you have no reason to refuse his challenge for the right to claim the female," the priest observed. He did not like what he was seeing from Koss. The priest knew who the Romulans, the _Rhihannsu_ , were.

"I will not permit this!" T'Les looked as if she were about to attack Trip herself.

"Thou hast no say, woman of Vulcan," the priest took a great secret delight in saying. "The bride has the right and has exercised it correctly. The challenger, though human, has responded as a Vulcan would and with respect to our ways. This is the Vulcan way. The two shall meet in mortal combat for the right to claim the female."

"Suits me," Trip smiled savagely and tossed the robe away to reveal a black combat outfit. Strapped to his back was a Klingon Bat'leth.

"You insult me with a weapon of yet another outsider!" Koss said loudly, trying to gain the support of the crowd.

"The law stipulates that combat is melee weaponry, not what weapons are allowed or forbidden," Trip said easily, moving into the circle. "You may choose whatever weapon you wish, Koss, Son of Kovek. It will not matter."

"You are correct in that, Human," Koss sneered, obviously not realizing it. There was a noticeable reaction among the Vulcans this time. "I will kill you."

"Better have tried and failed," Trip shrugged easily. "Choose your weapon, child of dishonor. Choose well, for today is your last upon this plane."

STE

Soval could not have been more shocked if Archer himself had challenged Koss to battle. Where Tucker had learned to speak such flawless Vulcan he had no idea. Nor had he any notion that Tucker knew how to use a _bat'leth_ , a weapon favored by Klingon warriors. From the way he was holding it, it was obvious that he did know how to use it.

But it was Tucker's use of the word _ashayam_ that had shocked him the most. Did Tucker actually know what that word meant?

STE

T'Pol was unprepared for Trip's declaration that she was _ashaya_ , his soul mate, his destined one. He had said nothing, had in no way intimated that he was here for any reason than that of a perceived debt of honor.

Her breath caught in her throat at his declaration but thanks to her repaired neural pathways she was able to prevent her surprise from showing. Trip looked at her and she could see his eyes shining.

"I'm not sure what that meant," he admitted where only she could hear, "but it sounded right for some reason. You should know that I will probably not be able to give you children. There are other things you should know as well, but you can make your decision one way or another after I've dealt with Koss and you know the facts. All the facts," he stressed.

"That is agreeable," she managed to nod.

"Then wait here while I kill your fiancé," Trip said casually and unlimbered the _bat'leth_ as he walked away.

T'Pol felt her pulse quicken at the thought that this man was about to fight for the right to claim her. Something very primal and basic awakened in her at the sight and she could not force it away from her. Could not suppress it. And was not entirely sure she wanted to.

STE

Kov looked to his father, who was staring openly at Koss, a pure frown visible on his face. He saw his father motion for a member of his staff, who he spoke to quietly for the briefest of instants. The staff member nodded and then strode away at a brisk walk. Kuvak caught his son looking at him and nodded once. Kov returned it and then gave his attention to the drama unfolding before him.

STE

"His name is Skon," Ross told Archer. "He claims to work for the Vulcan Security Directorate and that he has vital information for us."

"I'm sure he does," Archer almost snorted. "You want me present, I'm guessing?"

"I do," Ross nodded. "We were expecting this, but I admit I didn't think it would be this soon."

"All very logical I'm sure," Jon murmured. He followed Ross to the side entrance now being used as the main entrance since the explosion. Skon was waiting for them, standing.

"Mister Skon," Ross put on his best politician smile. "I'm Ambassador Ross, and this is Commodore Archer of the Enterprise. He and his people have been instrumental in helping us to piece things back together."

"I am aware of both of you," Skon nodded. "I am here to tell you that the Vulcan Security Ministry will be assuming responsibility for the investigation into the bombing. We have developed intelligence that a dissident faction is responsible for this attack. Since they are of Vulcan, it becomes our jurisdiction."

"I'm afraid I can't agree, Mister Skon," Ross shook his head. "Regardless of who committed the act, and we appreciate the intelligence by the way, this was an attack against Earth citizens, of Earth Territory. Our treaty agreements authorize us full access to anyone who commits a crime on these grounds as having committed that crime on Earth itself. While we recognize that it's your responsibility to help us apprehend those responsible, it's our investigation to conduct, and eventually our justice the perpetrators will have to face."

"I'm afraid there is a misunderstanding," Skon said evenly. "There can by no participation in this investigation by Earth personnel. This is a Vulcan matter."

"Over one hundred dead Humans says otherwise," Ross replied just as evenly. "And as I said, our treaty lays this all out very clearly. I suggest that you review the treaty agreement and then get back to me. I'll expect you again after the midday meal." With that Ross turned abruptly and walked away, Jon hurrying to catch up.

"Little son-of-a-bitch," Ross muttered once out of Skon's hearing. "Thought he would just waltz in here and take over. We'll just see about that."

"Had T'Pol not found that residue and identified the bomb material, what would your reaction have been," Jon asked, curious. He was liking Ross more by the second.

"Honestly, I'd have been grateful for the help," he admitted. "Especially without you and your crew here to help, we'd have been so overwhelmed that finding out they were willing to conduct the investigation would probably have been a relief."

"Interesting," Jon mused. "This was planned very well, sir."

"I'm beginning to see that."

STE

Trip moved easily into the combat area, _bat'leth_ dangling in one hand and trailing along his leg.

 _What the hell does_ ashaya _mean_?

 _Trust me_ , he heard, and then silence.

"Figures," he muttered to himself. It must mean something important, since T'Pol's reaction was apparent enough that even he could see it.

Koss was moving into the circle, hands gripping an odd spear he recognized as a _lirpa_. One end was basically a bludgeon, while the other was a wide, spade-shaped spear point. It looked unbalanced and difficult to wield, but Trip knew better. In the right hands it was a deadly weapon.

Just not deadly enough.

Without waiting for the official start of the match, Koss rushed forward in an attempt to catch Trip by surprise. Trip easily sidestepped the rush, allowing Koss to move past him and sticking out a foot to trip the Vulcan as he stumbled by. Koss went sprawling onto the ground, arms outstretched as he lost his grip on the _lirpa_.

He scrambled to his feet and grabbed the _lirpa_ up, turning to meet the expected attack, only to find Trip watching him, a grin on his face.

"Gotta watch your step," he snorted. Koss' face turned green as his face flushed with anger. He almost charged again but thought better of it. Twirling the _lirpa_ in his hands, he instead chose to circle, moving closer to his opponent gradually.

Trip moved only to keep his face to Koss, clearly inviting him to attack again, the bat'leth still hanging by his side. As Koss moved closer, he lunged suddenly, striking at Trip with the spear point in an attempt to skewer him. Trip's arm flashed up and around, swinging in a circular motion clockwise to intercept the spear point and deflect it with apparent ease. Once more Koss found himself over extended but with no impetus he was able to recover.

He stared at Trip momentarily, surprised by the human's apparent ease in deflecting the attack. Trip grinned at him.

"Might not know everything you think you do," he said, then winked at the other man. Enraged again, Koss spun the _lirpa_ , raising the bludgeon end this time and charging toward his opponent in an attempt to bash his head in and wipe that infuriating smirk from his face.

But then a funny thing happened.

STE

Soval watched in amazement as Tucker's weapon raised to block the _lirpa_ , something that should not have been possible for a mere human to do. Humans did not do well in Vulcan's harsh environment, the heavier gravity and higher heat usually taking a toll on their physiology in short order.

Tucker was showing no such weakness, and his physical prowess was impressive to say the least. Koss' overhead strike was stopped cold by Tucker's _bat'leth_ , Koss' forward momentum actually being stopped completely. Tucker didn't budge either. There was no movement at all from him as he held Koss at bay.

Then Soval felt his knowledge of how the world worked take yet another hit.

STE

T'Pol watched as Trip held Koss' attack with one hand while the other reached out and took the Vulcan by the throat. The look of shock on Koss' face sent an entirely un-Vulcan like spike of satisfaction through her. Koss had tried to intimidate her, had tried to make her afraid, and he had succeeded in spiking her fear of the situation.

Now _he_ was the one who was fearful. Trip, _her_ Trip, her _champion_ , had put that look of fear on Koss' face.

Her Trip? Where had that thought come from? When did she start thinking of him as 'her' Trip?

STE

Kov happened to be looking at T'Pol when the realization hit her and an entirely self-satisfied smirk blossomed on his face at the sight. He had known he was right. T'Pol subconsciously had selected Trip Tucker as her ideal mate. He didn't know how the changes in Trip's physiology would affect their chances to conceive a child, but no doubt remained that there would be an attempt.

Surely now Trip would start listening to him more.

STE

T'Les watched the battle with a horror that she found difficult to suppress. Tucker, the interfering human, would kill Koss. Kovek could take no retaliation on T'Pol or Tucker without calling attention to himself, which would leave T'Les as his only possible source of revenge.

T'Les had been willing to risk her daughter's future, even her safety, not for her own selfish aims but to help bring about a change that all Vulcan would profit from. It had been that thought that kept her going even when she realized that T'Pol was in danger at the hands of Koss.

The realization that all she had accomplished was to ensure that Kovek would destroy her gave her a sudden and irrational feeling of satisfaction. It was nothing more than she deserved.

STE

Koss could not believe what he was experiencing. This human, this _insignificant human_ , was defeating him in combat! As Tucker's hand closed about his throat in an iron grip, Koss finally realized the depth of his mistake. He had allowed himself to openly desire T'Pol, something that his father had warned him against. Koss had thought that he had his desires under control enough that he could force this issue and keep others from seeing his true nature.

Prevent them from knowing he was actually _Rhihansu._

Tucker though was not fooled. Or perhaps, Koss thought suddenly, he simply didn't care.

Either way, Koss was about to pay very dearly for his mistakes.

STE

"Stop!"

Everyone looked at the source of the voice, surprised that anyone would dare interrupt the proceedings of such a time honored tradition.

Three uniformed members of the Vulcan Security Services were approaching the fighting duo of Koss and Tucker, oblivious to the threat of interfering with such an event.

"You will not interfere," the priest warned, standing and holding out his hand. "This is the Vulcan way."

"Neither of them are Vulcan," Kuvak intoned, causing a startled reaction among the onlookers. Kov looked to see another trio of Security Service males surrounding Kovek.

"Do not interrupt," Kov intoned, holding up a hand from a respectful distance. "Allow me to speak." At a nod from the priest, the three men allowed Kov to enter the circle.

STE

Trip was dimly aware that there were others around him, but he didn't really care. He had Koss where he wanted him, which was to be choking the living shit out of him for daring to threaten T'Pol. He had to pay for that, but first he had to know fear. Trip hadn't shared any of that with Kov or T'Pol. He figured what they didn't know wouldn't hurt them. But his plan all along was to punish Koss severely before taking his worthless Vulcan life.

Koss' face was a study of emotion, which was a slight but not complete surprise after what T'Pol had told them. And the look of fear on Koss' face was absolutely priceless. The smug bastard was getting his own taste of what it was like to be the victim and Trip was glad to be the one delivering the message.

"Trip!"

He heard Kov's voice but had to wonder why his friend would interrupt him. Hadn't they agreed that Koss had to die? Kov had been on board with that, right?

 _You must stop_ , he felt rather than heard. _Something is wrong_.

 _It looks fine from here_ , Trip thought to himself and thus to his Other. _I'm about to erase a stain from the universe_.

 _You must stop_ , Trip heard again and this time there was a spike of pain behind his eyes. _Stop this, Charles, there is something amiss that I cannot explain. There is turmoil among the crowd and Kov is somewhat unsettled_.

 _He's always like that_ , Trip 'replied', clamping down harder on Koss' throat. _It's just how he is._

 _Stop, Charles._ Again there was pain.

 _Why are you attacking me?_ Trip demanded, refusing to let go.

 _I will never harm you, nor by inaction allow you to be harmed_ , he heard again. _There is something wrong. You_ must _stop_.

As Koss lost consciousness, Trip released his hold and stepped back, allowing the Vulcan to hit the ground. His head swivelled like a turret and found Kov.

"What?" he growled, a ripple passing along his forehead.

"There is something amiss," Kov said calmly, pointing to the waiting Security men. "I think they want to have a word with your opponent, and that will be difficult if he is dead."

"Logical," Trip replied with a nod. He looked to T'Pol who was staring at him with a look he'd never seen from her but found that he liked a great deal. He turned to the priest.

"Am I declared the victor?" he asked in Vulcan. _How the hell am I doing that_?

 _I am doing it_ , he heard.

Oh. Right.

"Thou hast indeed triumphed over Thy foe," the priest seemed to take great relish in saying. "The female is yours."

The female was _his_. Somewhere deep inside Trip felt a stir of something positively primal, something that even in his new self he'd never experienced. Something dark and powerful, and yet completely proper.

"Then I will stop and allow him to be taken," Trip said, stepping back two more steps. The three Vulcans stepped in and unceremoniously drug Koss from the circle. He saw Kovek being led away protesting. He also caught sight of Soval watching him carefully.

"Funny how things come around, ain't it Old Man," Trip said, unknowingly saying just the right thing to further upset the old Vulcan, since it was nearly a mirror to Archer's own threat.

Without waiting for an answer Trip walked to where T'Pol stood waiting, head held high.

"I won," he said simply.

"I am yours," her reply was just as simple.

"Let's get the hell away from here," Trip growled.

"Indeed," she nodded. With Kov leading the way and without a backward glance, Trip took T'Pol to the shuttle and carried her away from T'Les. And would in another day carry her away from Vulcan.

Behind them T'Les watched events unfolding and realized that despite the defeat of Koss, Kovek might not be in a position to prevent her work any longer. And certainly not to take revenge.

Soval watched the two depart, his mind moving back and forth between the fact that Tucker was still alive though reported dead, that he had not only defeated Koss but had done so handily, and that Minister Kuvak had, for reasons Soval could only suspect, had both Koss and Kovel taken into custody.

He caught the priest staring at him and nodded once in recognition. The priest slowly made his way to Soval with a dignity born of age, honor, and wisdom.

"It grieves me, Soval, to see such a thing as a daughter of this clan coerced into marriage, particularly to one of those winged fools."

"I did not know," Soval said simply.

"A poor excuse for an _en'har'at_ ," the priest almost spat and turned his back to walk away. T'Les tried to approach the priest but the man's eyes clearly warned her that would not be wise.

Soval fought a sigh. T'Les had compromised him yet again. Would he never learn?


	10. Chapter 10

_No copyright infringement intended. No money being made. All done for fun~_

Chapter Ten

"I'm sorry, what?"

Jon was sitting at the desk Ross had provided him going over the details of the 'official' investigation into the bombing. The investigation that _didn't_ detail the fact that Vulcan explosive residue linked to the V'Shar had been found.

" _There is a Mister Tucker asking to see you, sir_ ," the young woman's voice sounded a bit put out. " _He's accompanied by two Vulcans, a T'Pol and Kov_."

"What does he look like?" Jon asked, his heart jumping ever so slightly.

" _Well, he's tall, blonde hair and blue eyes, talks with a funny accent_ ," the girl supplied.

"That's not possible," Jon said more to himself than anyone else.

" _Well, I can tell him that if you want,_ " the woman shot back.

"No, no, that's not. . .never mind. I'm on my way." He as out of his seat before he finished speaking. He was running by the time he exited the office he was using. Several people moved as he barged past them, but he ignored them.

He slowed as came into the foyer, seeing what he had hoped he would but was afraid to think it. Framed by T'Pol on one side and Kov on the other stood-

"Trip!"

"Hello Jon," Trip smiled easily. Jon wrapped the younger man in a bear hug that would have broken bones in a lesser man.

"You little shit!" Jon almost yelled. "I thought you were dead!"

"Probably should be," Trip admitted. "Good to see you," he added, returning his friend's embrace.

Just before Jon punched him in the face. The only reaction was for Archer to shake his hand as Trip looked at him oddly.

"You could at least _pretend_ that hurt," Jon snarled. "After putting me through months of thinking I killed you, you bastard!"

"Yeah, well, you almost did," Trip sulked slightly. "And did cost me my ship," he added. Jon was mollified by that, but only slightly. And it was true to a point.

"How did you get out?" Jon asked, and looked at T'Pol. "T'Pol, aren't you getting married today?"

"I did get married today," T'Pol nodded, and Trip looked at her.

"You did?"

"By Vulcan Law, yes," she nodded.

"I told you," Kov was shaking his head.

"Have I missed something?" Jon asked.

STE

"So you fought Koss?"

"No, I kicked Koss' ass," Trip snarled. The four of them were sitting in Jon's temporary office. He was so happy to see Trip that he'd temporarily forgotten his other concerns.

"And now you two are married?" he asked, still trying to catch up.

"It's lookin' that way," Trip replied.

"It _is_ that way," T'Pol stated firmly. "By the trial of combat. As the victor, you have won me."

"You're not a prize in a contest, T'Pol," Jon objected.

"Yes, she was," Kov sighed, resisting the urge to rub his face with his hands. "I tried to tell you that this was Vulcan law. But all you cared about was punishing Koss."

"Well, he deserved it."

"He did indeed," T'Pol nodded firmly, surprising Jon even more.

"Now that I'm completely confused, and not that I am not delighted to see you Trip, what are you guys doing here?"

"Well, Jon, you would be hearing about this pretty soon from-"

" _Sir_ ," the girl interrupted, " _there's another Vulcan here to see you and he says it's urgent_."

"-Soval," Trip finished.

"Tell him I'm busy," Jon told her.

" _He says it's extremely urgent, sir_."

"Then tell him I'm _extremely_ busy," Jon resisted the urge to snap at the girl. "If he continues to insist, call Major Hayes and have him escorted from the premises."

"Commodore, I do not care for Soval, but refusal to see the Vulcan ambassador could be an issue," T'Pol said evenly.

" _Sir, I'm sorry but he's actually very insistent. And that's not very Vulcan like, honestly_. _I think he may be having an emotional meltdown of some kind_."

"You should definitely see him," T'Pol advised.

"Send him back," Jon sighed. "I really don't want to talk to Soval," he told them.

"He will not want to talk to you either," T'Pol predicted. "He feels he has no choice, I'm sure. As we were saying, Soval was present at my wedding. He saw Com-, _Captain_ Tucker defeat Koss in combat."

"Really?" Jon actually grinned at that. "I bet that set him back a bit, didn't it?"

"Indeed," T'Pol showed no irritation at being interrupted. "However, that is not the important thing. During the trial by combat, members of the Security Force were summoned and have taken Koss-"

"Commodore Archer, were you aware that. . . ." Soval almost burst into the room, most un-Vulcan like, trailing off as he saw Trip, T'Pol and Kov seated in the office.

"I'm aware that you are the last person I want to see at the moment," Jon said evenly, then frowned. "Well, that's not completely accurate, but. . .what do you want, Soval?"

"I was going to ask if you were aware of Captain Tucker's survival, but I see that you were."

"No, he wasn't," Trip fielded that one to keep Jon from having to. "He just found out about fifteen minutes ago."

"Wheel keeps turning, Soval," Jon couldn't resist. He just couldn't. "What is it you want? I'm understandably busy." Soval turned to T'Pol.

"Your mothe-"

"You don't speak to her ever again without permission," Trip cut him right off. "Understand?"

"May I address your _aduna_?" Soval requested, his control obviously strained.

" _Her_ permission, you jack-"

"Trip," T'Pol cut him off, then turned back to Soval.

"I do not care to discuss she who was once my mother," T'Pol said stiffly. "Especially not with he who is no longer my _en'har'at_ ," she added in what, for a Vulcan, was an acidic tone.

"I understand your ire, T'Pol," Soval nodded. "There is much you do not know that perhaps you should have. . .no, that you absolutely should have been made privy to. I regret that I allowed your. . .T'Les, to convince me to keep you in the dark. I do not expect your forgiveness but I do hope someday to regain your regard as well as your trust."

"I do not know how that will be possible," T'Pol said simply. "Nor do I know how my life will change now. There may be no opportunity for that."

"So it is," Soval nodded, then turned to Archer.

"Commodore, it is passed time that we spoke freely and openly."

"I've been doing that for years while you ran around behind my back, sabotaging me at every hands turn. You were the prime mover in making sure that my father never got to see his engines fly," Jon's voice was tinged with bitterness.

"A regrettable but necessar-"

"You really don't want to finish that," Jon warned, coming partly out of his chair before he could catch himself.

"Easy, Jon," Trip tried to soothe him, causing Kov to look at him incredulously.

"What?" Trip asked.

"I am having difficulty seeing you as the voice of reason," Kov admitted. "It is not your usual forte."

"Whatever," Trip sulked slightly and T'Pol had to resist the urge to roll her eyes.

"Soval, what. Do. You. Want," Jon stressed each word. "And be very careful what comes out of your mouth because I am so fed up with your crap. And my father's name should never cross your lips again in my presence."

Soval did the Vulcan equivalent of counting to ten before continuing in a calmer voice.

"There is much that I have not told you," he began. "Any of you," he looked at T'Pol. "There are reasons for that which should become clear as we speak, but for safety's sake we should speak somewhere more secure."

"We're in the UE embassy, Soval," Jon pointed out.

"Which was recently bombed," Soval countered.

"Point," Jon conceded. "Where do you suggest?"

"We can go to my ship," Kov suggested. "It is protected against listening devices. Although some of the people my father brought to repatriate the captives Trip freed tried to place devices aboard, they were not successful." To his credit he didn't smirk.

"Very well," Soval agreed and Jon nodded.

"Should I bring the Ambassador?" Jon asked.

"No," Soval shook his head. "You need to listen, first. After that, the decision will be yours."

STE

T'Les found it ridiculously easy to get reinstated to her position at the Science Academy. With her antagonist locked away for the time being, no one wanted to be in a position where it could be said they aided Kovek in any way. As everyone knew he was responsible for T'Les' removal, reinstating took longer to promise than it did to acutally accomplish.

Thus without her daughter actually marrying Koss she achieved her ultimate goal. Within two hours of arriving at the Academy she was once again hard at work, tracing the steps of Surak through ancient maps and manuscripts.

STE

"I thought you might like to know that Commander T'Pol is now married to Lord Grim according to Vulcan law," Julio smirked ever so slightly as he spoke to Malcolm over a closed channel from _Reaper_. "Koss and his father are apparently in prison, though no one knows why. I'm working on that," he admitted.

"Sounds like Trip laid a proper arse-kicking on the bastard," Reed growled and Julio nodded.

"Appears so. He was dragged unconscious from the field. Kov was apparently the only one able to make him stop."

"Should have let him finish the job," Reed said flatly.

"Wonder he didn't," Julio shrugged. "Lord Grim isn't long on patience. Whatever happened, there must have been a good reason why he's still alive."

"So what happens now?" Reed asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Where will you blokes be about next?" Reed clarified.

"Probably go back to killing pirates," Julio shrugged. "We still have some captives to get home, but I think Kov intends to use _Argonaut_ to accomplish that. I don't know for sure. I'm looking forward to killing more Orions, though," Julio smiled. Reed suppressed a shiver at the other man's eagerness to shed blood.

"Well, the universe will be a better place without them, too bloody right about that," he settled for saying.

"You bet. Anyway, that's all the news that's fit to be news at the moment. Happens we get ready to cast off I'll let you know. Keep outta trouble my man." The screen went blank before Reed could think of a suitable reply.

"Good on you, mate," he said aloud. Trip had kept T'Pol out of trouble, and managed to end up wed to her.

"Luckiest SOB I've ever known," he said firmly. "Still."

STE

"Now, what is it that's so important that I should waste my time listening to anything you have to say, Soval."

Jon was leaning over the table in the Captain's mess of the _Argonaut_. Small but pleasantly appointed, it reeked of money and Jon wondered what Kov was doing now.

"At the time of Surak and the dawn of logic, there were many who rejected his teachings," Soval began. "Those who did continued to fight until defeated by the tribes that wished to embrace Surak's teaching and cease the warfare that had almost destroyed our planet."

"Those individuals chose to leave Vulcan rather than undertake the mastery of their emotions. As they departed, they vowed that they would wax strong and return one day to re-unite the people under the banner of Raptor's Wings." He paused, looking from face to face.

"We call them _Rhihannsu_ ," he said evenly.

"Romulans," Trip pegged it right away. "The damn Romulans are Vulcans!"

"No, they are Romulans," Soval insisted. "We are talking about many centuries, Captain Tucker. There are almost certainly evolutionary difference between our people now. But there will still be similarities as well. Enough so that Romulans could easily hide among us so long as they kept their emotions in check."

"Koss is Romulan," Kov looked sick.

"As is Minister Kovek," T'Pol added. "That is the reason for their being taken into custody."

"It is," Soval nodded. "Your father ordered that done Kov. He knows of the _Rhihannsu_ , as do most senior officials. However, the problem is much larger than that of Koss, or even Kovek."

"V'Las," Jon almost breathed the name. "You're telling us that V'Las is Romulan."

"Or at least an agent in their employee," Soval nodded, pleased that the group before him was picking up things so quickly. "It is believed that his actions have been leading Vulcan to a state that the Romulans could use to overcome us. He has entirely too much control over our Fleet, as well as our ground forces."

"Then why haven't you moved against him?" Jon asked.

"That is easier said than done," Soval admitted. "No one suspected V'Las of any treachery until recently. It was assumed that he was simply an old world, hard-line isolationist. They are common among our people as you know." He looked at Archer.

"It is V'Las who has worked to prevent Earth from becoming more powerful in the realm of space, Commodore. His orders were not questioned on the whole because of his political leanings. It now appears that his desire all along was to prevent Earth from becoming a power that could assist Vulcan should war with the Romulans come."

"Well, he did a good job," Jon nodded. "There's no way in hell we could help you stop them. We probably couldn't even protect ourselves." Trip stirred slightly but said nothing. Jon noted that but decided it would wait until later to ask.

"Support for which many of us now regret," Soval admitted.

"Yeah, well, that and a few credits will get us a latte, won't it?" Jon snapped back.

"Commodore I cannot change what has happened, but I am trying to move forward and repair the damage that I can," Soval tried to be reasonable.

"And how are you planning on doing that Soval?" Jon asked. "Gonna suddenly start helping instead of holding us back?"

"We cannot share any technology with you without the approval of the High Command," Soval admitted.

"So basically it's just words, same as always," Jon snorted. "Did my threat to run for President scare you that bad?"

"Huh?" Trip sat us straighter. "What's that now?"

"Later," Jon waved a hand. "Short version, I'm tired of getting kicked around by Vulcan. But the kicker was the way he," he stabbed a finger at Soval, "treated T'Pol. And I promise you Soval, if I get into office, they'll be shuttering that embassy before the vote tally is finished and you and the rest of your kind can go straight to the Vulcan version of hell. Present company excepted, T'Pol, Kov," he added.

"Thank you," T'Pol said as Kov nodded.

"That is hardly productive," Soval fought the urge to sigh.

"Nothing about our relationship with Vulcan is productive Soval," Jon shot back. "And you can stand here make platitudes all you want, but the simple fact is that you were one of the driving factors in how Vulcan treated Earth. You're only trying to kiss and make up now because you're scared."

"Well good!" he snarled. "Now you know how we felt when the Xindi were on the verge of destroying our world and erasing our people from the universe. How's it feel, by the way?"

Soval did sigh this time, realizing that his original fear was well founded.

"It is obvious that your opinion is too poisoned for us to make any headway," he said. "Your desire for revenge is too strong."

"Revenge?" Jon looked incredulous. "No, Soval, not revenge. Just good old fashioned justice. Which we'll be getting for our embassy personnel too, you can bet your ass on that!"

"What?" Soval and Trip echoed one another and Kov sat up straighter.

"Never mind," Jon replied. "Doesn't matter anyway. If that's all, I need to get back to the embassy. I have some work to finish before I can finally head back to my ship. We have to start ferrying the dead up to the ship so they can be transported home."

"We grieve with thee," Soval said.

"Blow it out your ass," was Jon's reply as he stormed off the ship.

"So, Soval," Trip said easily. "You just make friends everywhere you go, don't you?"

"You may find humor in this if you wish Tucker, but the Romulans are a threat to you as well."

"No, they ain't," Trip replied evenly. "See, I got my own hammer nowdays," he said, then paused, looking at Kov. "Thor's Hammer. Now _there's_ a name for a warship."

"I like it," Kov nodded. He made a mental note to remember it.

"What are you referring to?" Soval demanded. Carefully.

"Earth is safe, Soval," Trip told him flatly. "I've got ships in orbit that can defend Earth from just about anybody. Xindi, Romulans, _Vulcans_ ," he looked dead at Soval when he said it. "So we don't need your help, Soval. Not anymore. Earth is safe and don't even know it."

"How many such vessels can you have," Soval was almost disdainful.

"Only needed one to stop the Xindi," Trip said smugly. "And I got a lot more than one."

"Where did you acquire such technology?"

"I made it," Trip told him. "Wheels always turnin', Soval."

"What does that mean?" Soval asked. "I grow tired of hearing it."

"It means that what goes around, comes around," Trip explained. "You guys have kept us hobbled for years, didn't care who you hurt, like Jon for instance. Didn't care that you left us trembling in fear that we was gonna be destroyed by a people we didn't even know. And now, that ain't never gonna happen again. But here you are, needing our help." He stood.

"And it probably ain't comin'." He looked at T'Pol.

"I guess it's time we talked some about the future," he said softly.

"Indeed," she nodded, rising as well. Without a word to Soval she turned and departed the dining room, heading aft to the cabin that Trip was using.

"I guess I'll show you out, Ambassador," Kov said. "Nice of you to come by."

Soval said nothing as he stalked away.

"No one to blame but yourself," Kov shook his head. He would have to speak to Trip though. He couldn't allow his family to perish if there was indeed an attack by Romulus.

STE

T'Pol sat down on the bunk as Trip settled into a chair across the room. She looked at him expectantly until he sighed.

"Do you want to ask questions, or do you just want me to start?"

"Please tell me what has happened to you," she said, hands on her knees.

"I've been infected with a parasite that will keep me young and healthy for the next, oh, five or six thousand years providing no one cuts my head off," Trip answered her plainly. To her credit T'Pol barely turned a hair at that.

"This. . .parasite. It is the source of your strength? Your combat abilities?"

"Strength, yes. The fighting I learned myself," Trip admitted. "From my XO."

"The Klingon," T'Pol nodded. "What of. . .the woman who was with you in the Expanse." She tried to keep her voice calm but it was difficult.

"We went our separate ways, a good while back," Trip shrugged. "She interfered in something she shouldn't have and it almost cost me everything. Includin' Earth. I can't have that. And that's something you need to understand too, T'Pol, 'fore we go any further."

"I'm not the same kind o' fella I was when we were on _Enterprise_ together. I'm a little more. . .bloodthirsty I guess. Before I came here to stop that weddin', I was killin' Orions. Pretty much wholesale. Gonna keep doin' it when and as I get the chance until there ain't any left. At least none who are slavers. Is that gonna be a problem for you?" he asked.

"I do not believe so," T'Pol answered carefully. "I may prefer not to be involved in such 'wholesale' slaughter," she admitted.

"You won't be," Trip assured her. "If you stay on ship with me, and I assume you'll want to, then you can do whatever you please. There's a science station, and if you want we can make you a lab. You can be a science officer again if it pleases you. You can do whatever your heart desires."

"There's something else," he continued after a minute. "Delana Grix is still my doctor. She and I. . .well, we're not together in any way, but it's not for a lack of her wanting to. Understand? She'll probably be unhappy about this, but she'll also probably be understanding about it. I don't want any trouble over it."

"So long as she respects my territory there will be no trouble," T'Pol said stiffly.

"See, that right there is what I'm talkin' about," Trip shook his head. "Delana's a flirt. Lives for it. Ain't no point in you takin' offense to that cause it's as natural to her as breathin'. And she's used to me flirtin' back. That don't mean I'm cheatin' on you, assuming we stay together. It also don't mean she's not respecting your 'territory'. See what I mean?"

"I will consider it," T'Pol nodded. "More than that I cannot promise until I know what our bond will be like. Or even if we will have one," she admitted.

"Let's talk about that," Trip nodded. "What does that entail, anyway."

"Vulcan couples spend the first year of their marriage in nearly constant company of each other in order to develop the mental bond of a married couple," T'Pol informed him. "If we are able to establish a bond, that bond will seek to protect our relationship. It will exert itself into our psyches, insisting that we remain loyal to each other in all things. In rare cases that bond will enable the sharing of emotions with each other. In extremely rare cases it will result in a telepathic bond that allows the bondmates to speak mind-to-mind."

"Okay," Trip took that surprisingly well. "Do you think we can develop this bond? Do you even want one? With someone like I am now?"

"Someone who left what he was doing and traveled here to prevent my being forced into a marriage with a man intent on harming me, subjecting me to his idea of what it meant to be a 'proper' wife, and fighting that man in mortal combat in order to stop him from doing so?" T'Pol rolled the litany off easily.

"Someone who was willing to sacrifice his own life to save those of his friends and family and an entire planet of people who might never know of his sacrifice, and not appreciate it if they did? Someone like that?" Trip was blushing bright red by the time she finished.

"Yes, I think it would be extremely agreeable to be bonded to such a man," T'Pol said evenly, her eyes shining slightly. "You called me _ashayam_ ," she said softly. "Why?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "It suddenly came to me and if felt. . .right. Proper. It was almost as if it was meant to be, that's all. I. . .my symbiot is. . .different, T'Pol. It's a sentient being that dwells within me. It was the symbiot that stopped me from killing Koss. It was the symbiot that helped my find the right Sphere in the Expanse. And it keeps me healthy and heals my wounds almost over night. It speaks to me in my mind on occasion. Even now it's sometimes difficult for him to do so, but it is getting easier. When I'm 'away', I'm usually talking to him. Or listening. He teaches me all the time. Educates me."

"Fascinating," T'Pol observed. " _Ashaya_ is one of the most sacred things in our culture," she told him softly. "It would translate to 'beloved' easily, but more accurately from a human perspective would be 'soul mate'. We call it Destined One. The person you are destined to spend your life with."

"T'Pol, barring a massive injury, I'll live for thousands of years," Trip told her gently. "I'm still trying to wrap my head around it."

"I'm sure it is a breathtaking thought," T'Pol nodded. "We will still have many years together. But, right now you find me aesthetically pleasing. Attractive you would call it. I will age, Trip, where you will not. When I am one hundred years older, approaching old age, will you still look upon me with favor?"

"All I can do is promise you this," Trip said, leaning forward. "When I am with someone, I am with them to the end, whatever that end may be. If we make it, if we form this bond, then yes, one hundred years from now when you're older and grayer, I will still look upon you with favor. That's my way, T'Pol. And it always will be I imagine."

"I envisioned this much differently," T'Pol admitted. "I envisioned this many times, how I would bond with my mate and perhaps have children and raise a family. That when my Time approached I would prepare to leave service and raise a child. You said that you might not be able to provide me with offspring. Why?"

"My kind traditionally cannot reproduce," Trip told her. "Because of my. . .difference, I can father a child safely, but that was with a suitable host. I presume one with carbon based blood. I don't know that we can produce a child between us with you having copper based blood."

"But you can still. . . ." She broke off with a blush, and Trip chuckled.

"Yes, I can still function, T'Pol," he told her. "Your Pon Farr will not be dangerous to me, either. You need have no fear of that." She stood then and began removing her clothing.

"Show me."


	11. Chapter 11

_No money to be made, no copyright infringement intended. Janos is an original character but all else belongs to whoever currently owns Enterprise. May they soon bring it back even in a move._

Chapter Eleven

"So you're telling us that this girl, this _T'Pau_ , is the one who planted the bomb in our embassy?" Ross' voice made it clear that he felt like he was being lied to.

"She certainly created the device," Skon nodded. "Without access to your surveillance footage we cannot be sure that she actually planted the bomb."

"And how do you even know that she 'certainly' created the device?" Jon asked. "That's a pretty definite statement to make."

"We are certain," Skon repeated. "That is all I can tell you."

"And these, Syrians?" Ross deliberately mispronounced the word. "They're in the Forge of all places?"

"Syrrannites, and yes, we believes so," Skon nodded. "We plan to send a team there to try and ferret them out, but it is a large place and there are many kilometers of underground passages and dwellings there. Ancient dwellings in some cases. Also the Forge does not permit the use of more sophisticated equipment such as scanners. The work must be done the old way."

"So when you say ferret them out, you literally mean going in there with a team and searching for them without technical means," Ross clarified.

"That is correct," Skon nodded. "We will keep you apprised of the investigation."

"No, Commodore Archer will keep me apprised," Ross said flatly. "He and his MACO team will be going with you. If these Srryannites are the ones who killed my people, then I want us represented in the search."

"I'm afraid that will not be possible," Skon said evenly.

"Make it possible," Ross' voice was still flat. "Our treaty agreement specifies this is UE soil, and an attack on us constitutes an act of war. At the very least this was a terrorist act and we still have the death penalty for terrorism on Earth. The crime was committed on Earth territory. The jurisdictional issues are pretty clear, according to the treaty."

"We cannot take your people into the Forge, Ambassador," Skon resisted. "It is very demanding."

"MACOs are tough people and Commodore Archer isn't a weakling," Ross shot back. "Either we participate of we file a complaint. One that will probably be the end of our relations. At this point that would honestly suit me fine, but it's not my call."

Skon wanted to continue to argue but knew it would make no difference.

"Very well," he acquiesced. "But we cannot be responsible for them."

"Didn't ask you to," Ross assured him. "Make sure we have the proper coordinates for our shuttle to land the team in time to link up with your forces. Make sure there's no mistake in those coordinates, Mister Skon. We don't need another diplomatic incident out of this."

"Indeed," Skon replied and the departed.

"There's something fishy about him or I'm a liberal," Ross grumped after Skon was gone.

"Thanks for volunteering me to go along, by the way," Jon snorted.

"You're welcome," Ross smiled. "Think of the votes you'll get for chasing these desperate criminals into the vaunted Forge." Jon snorted.

"You don't really think this girl is responsible do you?" Ross continued. "I mean she's still an adolescent by their standards. Barely a teenager."

"Not for a second," Jon shook his head. "I'm going to see if I can't find out some more about all this before we go. There are a couple people I can talk to who might have information about these Syrrannites."

STE

T'Pol was sitting in a lotus position when Trip woke. He lay still for some time watching her meditate and thinking things over.

This had not been the plan when he'd come to Vulcan. He'd had no intention of ending up wedded to T'Pol or anyone else for that matter. Trip knew that he had a lot of issues still to work out and putting someone else into that mix wasn't fair to them in any way.

Kov had warned him how things were but Trip hadn't listened to him. Not really. Kov was right about that. All Trip had seen was the need to punish Koss for hurting T'Pol. For costing her the life she wanted. For forcing her to return to Vulcan against her will and most of all for threatening her.

Again he felt something dark and primal stir within him at the thought of T'Pol being threatened. He barely managed to keep himself from growling in anger at the mere thought of it.

 _Are you doing that_? he demanded.

 _That is all you Charles_ , he heard the answer, sounding somewhat amused. _You should learn to listen to your friends. Act less rashly_.

 _So you're telling me I made a mistake, then_ , Trip made it a statement rather than a question.

 _No, I'm not_ , he could swear there was an exasperated sigh in there somewhere. _In fact I believe the Vulcan female will be good for you. If you listen to her. Which I doubt will happen_ , the 'voice' added.

 _Why wouldn't I listen to her_? Trip asked. Outwardly he was not moving. To anyone who happened to be watching he would appear to still be sleeping.

 _It is a failing of yours_ , he heard. _You disregard good advice because it does not allow you to do what you want. This is not good, Charles_.

 _Sometimes I know better than they do_ , Trip objected.

 _And too many times you do not_ , the voice chided him. _You must learn patience, Charles. You have so much time now. Learn that, and learn to use it. See the long view of things. See not just the next day, but the next year, even the next century. Learn to use your time_.

 _And you think T'Pol can teach me that?_ he asked. _Is that why you've bonded us together?_

There was silence at that for some time. Trip felt a hint of embarrassment and perhaps a bit of chagrin as well.

 _I did not believe that you knew that_ , he finally heard.

 _I didn't until just now_ , Trip smirked mentally. _But I knew there was a reason that I called her that. ._.ashayam, _or whatever. Just like there's a reason that every time I think of Koss threatening her I feel something. . .dark, inside. Worse than anything I ever felt with the Xindi. Something primal_.

 _And that is you, Charles, with no help from me_ , the symbiot assured him. _There was affection for her in your heart already. Attraction certainly but there was more, more that you had suppressed as improper and unlikely to bear fruit. I knew when your friend Malcolm called that there was a deep and abiding affection for her that you refused to allow to grow. It stirred within you, just as you felt it a minute ago._

 _Should I be afraid of it?_ Trip asked.

 _No, it is not a thing to be feared, but it must be respected. She will be with you for a long time, but you must cherish that time because I cannot hold her here. I cannot let you make her like you. I do not posses the means. For that I am truly sorry, my friend_.

 _I knew that already_ , Trip assured him. _I assume that children with her is out, too_.

 _That I cannot say, but it is unlikely_. _It's possible that your science can separate what makes you. . .you, from your DNA, and thus create an embryo that she may or may not carry to term. I am truly sorry, Charles_. There was real regret not just in the words but in the 'tone'.

 _It's not your fault_ , Trip replied. _It wasn't supposed to be like this, anyway. This is all my doing. I've created this mess because of my need for vengeance. If there is blame in all this, it's for me._

 _You have done much good since I have come to you, Charles_ , there was a chiding tone again. _Do not disregard all that you have accomplished. Yes, things are not optimal, but things are, and will remain, what they are. Janos has placed great faith in you, and that was before he knew about me. There was a reason for that. Archer trusted you and no one else to take Enterprise into space. There was a reason for that, too. All that you are includes what I have done for you, but that is_ not _all there is to you._

". . .ain Tucker!"

Trip's eyes shot open to see a very concerned looking T'Pol standing over him, still dressed in one of his t-shirts she had donned upon waking.

"Trip are you all right?" she demanded.

"I'm fine," he told her, sitting up. "I told you, sometimes that happens. When he. . .when we're talking." He looked up at her and felt his heart stop for an instant.

She was heartbreakingly beautiful and the concern for his well being written on her normally expressionless face and shining in her eyes just made her so much more beautiful.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Just looking at you," he admitted. "You are incredibly beautiful, _aduna_." He said it as natural as breathing, and could tell it pleased her.

"You are aesthetically pleasing as well, _adun_ ," she smiled gently. Loving.

"You smiled," Trip looked shocked. "Are you Romulan too?" he asked, eyebrow raised.

"Would that cause you fear?" T'Pol asked rather than answer.

"No," he admitted. "Don't even really care for some reason. Just wondering."

"I am not Romulan," she told him then "I smile because we are alone, and as my _adun_ you are entitled to see and experience my emotions. When we are in public then I will be a 'proper' Vulcan, but alone I can simply be T'Pol, wife of Charles."

"You know, that's got a nice ring to it," Trip smiled, and captured those pouting lips in a fiery kiss. After the briefest of seconds, T'Pol responded in kind. They were well on their way to another bout of 'bonding' when the com unit buzzed and Kov's voice came through.

"I am almost certain that I am interrupting something," his voice was tinged with sarcasm, "but Commodore Archer is on his way here. He 'desperately' needs to talk to all of us. I thought you might like time to, er, collect yourselves." Trip sighed and hit the button.

"Thanks Kov, we'll be up presently." He looked up at T'Pol's flushed face, noting that her breathing was still labored.

"I truly hate to say this," he said finally. "But if he called ahead, it's probably important. There's something fishy going on with that embassy bombing. Not to mention all that Romulan crap. We need to get up."

"We will continue this at a later time," T'Pol was Vulcan again. "We should shower together to conserve water," she said evenly. "It is only logical."

"Love that logic."

STE

"Yes, I know of them," T'Pol said stiffly.

Once again the four of them were gathered around the table in Kov's small Captain's gallery. Jon had arrived just as Trip and T'Pol, hair still wet from their water conservation efforts, had entered the galley. Food was served as Jon had relayed his problems and asked his questions.

"Are they the kind of people that would bomb the embassy?" Jon asked. "Cause I gotta tell you, T'Pol, Skon is trying his best to pin this whole thing on a slip of a girl named T'Pau. She might, _might_ be thirty or thirty-five at best. For a human I'd not question it, but for a Vulcan-"

"She is still adolescent," Kov noted. "Highly unlikely, Commodore."

"Agreed," T'Pol said tightly and Trip noticed it.

"What is it?" he asked. Or _thought_ he did. T'Pol looked at him, eyes wide as she was clearly startled.

 _I heard you speak in my mind_ , he could actually hear her voice.

"I'll be damned." That he _did_ say out loud. Jon looked up.

"What?"

"Nothin'," Trip shook his head. "I just thought o' something but it's completely unrelated. I guess I'm the only one who ain't heard of 'em."

"They are considered outlaws and deviants by the V'Las government," T'Pol explained. "They seek a completely pacifistic way for the people of Vulcan, following the original teachings of Surak. They are completely non-violent to my knowledge, and teach such to their followers."

"I thought you already followed Surak's teachings," Jon frowned.

"We follow a version of it, yes," T'Pol nodded. "The original Kir'shara has been lost for a great long time, Commodore. What we have now is diluted by traditions and by changes made by the High Command, their 'interpretation' of what Surak 'really meant'."

"Kinda like Christianity," Trip mused. "Lots of people follow the bible, but then they got another book on the side that tell them something different from the bible on account of someone, somewhere, didn't like what it really said. So they write a 'manual' to explain to you what the bible 'really' says."

"An apt comparison," T'Pol nodded. "If the Kir'shara should be found, it would upset the balance of power on this planet. It would possibly topple the government of V'Las altogether. Particularly should it become known that he is a Romulan or Romulan agent."

"That alone makes it worth finding," Jon growled. "Wouldn't it be great if this new book said it was okay not to treat us like the bastard at the family reunion?"

"Little bit o' venom showing there, Jon," Trip said casually. "Don't let that hate do to you what it did to me," he warned. Kov nearly goggled at that and even T'Pol looked surprised.

"What?" he demanded.

"Two days in a row I hear you being the voice of reason," Kov as shaking his head. "I am sure that's a record of some kind."

"I'ma quit bein' nice to you altogether," Trip threatened, though without heat.

"You're right," Jonathon Archer stunned them. "I do hate them. I don't hate you two," he looked to T'Pol and Kov, "though I used to think I hated you," he admitted to T'Pol. "I need to set that aside so I can make better decisions," he told them. He looked to T'Pol again.

"Do you think that this is some of what Soval was talking about?"

"That is possible," T'pol allowed. "And there is something else I must share," she added after the barest of pauses. "My mother is one of them."

"Say what?" Trip straightened up in his chair.

"What?" Jon said at the same time.

"That makes sense," Kov nodded, again at the same time,

"How?" Trip and Jon both demanded.

"Kovek used that to attempt to force T'Pol to marry Koss," Kov deduced without help from T'Pol. "That tells us two things. One, T'Les is working on something that is important enough that she was willing to sacrifice her daughter to make it happen. And Two, for some reason it was important to Kovek that T'Pol be married to his son. In subjection to him in fact." He looked at T'Pol.

"What do you know of your father?" he asked. T'Pol looked almost surprised at the answer.

"My father was a member of the V'Shar," she told him. "He disappeared when I was a small child while on a mission off planet. He has never been heard from again and it was assumed many years ago that he was killed in service to Vulcan."

"Your father is a brother to Soval, is that correct?"

"No," T'Pol surprised them all. "I refer to him as Uncle because he was my _en'arh'at_ , my guardian, after my father disappeared. He and my father were colleagues in the V'Shar and my father named Soval as my male _en'har'at_ to act as my father figure in the event he was killed."

"Shouldn't that have been your mother's job?" Trip asked. "Not that she would have been that good a choice, considerin'," he muttered.

"On Vulcan there are some things that require a male authority figure, while others require a female authority," Kov explained for her. "It is a proper thing to appoint a guardian. And it would not be inappropriate for T'Pol to refer to him as Uncle as a sign of affection."

"Indeed," T'Pol gave Kov a grateful nod.

"Which means we know little of your father," Kov continued his original train of thought. "Do you know your father's family?"

"He had no fami. . . ." T'Pol trailed off as the import of Kov's words began to make their impression.

"You can't be serious," Trip almost groaned. "This is worse than a soap opera!"

"I do not understand that reference," T'Pol shot him an almost glare. "Though if my father were Romulan that would explain a great deal about my inability to master my emotions as most Vulcans do. I have ever had difficulty in that regard." This was something she would never have admitted in any other company.

"Would your mother know?" Jon asked.

"It is possible but. . .I doubt it," T'Pol said after considering. "She seemed concerned, overtly concerned in fact, by Koss' blatant show of emotion toward me. It may be that she suspected him of being Romulan right away. Which means that she is aware of the _Rhihannsu_ connection to us," T'Pol followed the thought through to completion.

"And she was still intent on you marryin' him?" Trip felt that now familiar swirl within him and T'Pol's head snapped around to stare at him.

"What?" he asked, shifting uncomfortably.

"It is unimportant," T'Pol shook her head slightly. "Continue, Kov. It is apparent you were making a point with your deduction."

"The Romulans are coming," Kov shrugged. "Kovek's desperate attempt to bring you under his son's, and thus _his_ , subjection before that happens suggests that your father may yet live, and be a man of some importance among the _Rhihannsu_. Having you in his power when your father arrived might place Kovek in a position of power that he would not have otherwise enjoyed."

"Trip, what's wrong with your forehead?" Jon asked suddenly and Trip's hand shot up, feeling the slight protrusion there. Even as he felt it, the bulge went away.

"Just a blow I took in the fight yesterday," he lied easily. "Left a little bit of a bruise I thought, but today it's just a little off color and sore."

"Okay," Jon nodded. "Look, the reason I was interested in all this is that Ross 'volunteered' me and Hayes and his men to accompany the Vulcans, led by this Skon I suppose, into the Forge after this dangerous and subversive peaceniks," his sarcasm was thick. "Neither Ross nor I believe for an instant that this girl had a damn thing to do with the embassy bombing. I personally think that V'Las is using this as an excuse to move against them and kill them all. And I will not be a part of that."

"If you're going into the Forge I can get some of my people to go along with you," Trip said carefully. "People who can hold their own against any Vulcan, anywhere, and that the Forge won't drive out of action from heat."

"I don't know how well that would go over with Skon," Jon hesitated. "Or Ross, for that matter."

"Don't tell 'im," Trip shrugged. "As for Skon, just tell 'im they're part of Hayes' detachment. Maybe four people, all totaled? A fire team for all intents."

"How capable are they?" Jon asked, clearly weighing the odds.

"Even if Skon has a platoon it won't be enough," Trip shrugged casually. "Tech won't work in the Forge to amount to anything. My people are all well trained in melee weaponry, and in projectile weapons. They're well suited for something like this and will be an insurance policy against this Skon pulling a fast one. And they might be the only way you get to talk to this girl," he added.

"What you need is someone who can help you get into the Forge and find the Syrrannites without the trouble of using the Vulcan Security forces," Kov mused aloud. "Someone who would not only know where they might be, but would be trusted by them. Someone who could vouch for you."

STE

Soval crossed the courtyard of the Science Academy as his mind processed the call he'd just received.

Archer, of all people, calling to ask for a meeting that might help them restore the relations between Earth and Vulcan and assist him in accomplishing his work with a minimum of further aggravation. Soval had agreed to the meeting, 'in the same old place', which he correctly assumed was the ship of Kov, son of Kuvak.

And he was to bring T'Les. That was non-negotiable.

Fascinating.

Soval entered the building through a side entrance and walked directly to the office that T'Les has once occupied. He was not surprised to find her there once more, pouring over ancient manuscripts.

"I have it!" he heard her exclaim and looked around him to ensure that no one had overheard. He stepped into the office and secured the door.

"What are you doing here?" T'Les demanded, and Soval was once more alarmed at the way she acted. Clearly she had not meditated in some time. Her ability to process her emotions was already severely compromised.

"T'Les, you must take more care," Soval intoned calmly. "You will be overheard. While your work will not likely attract undue attention, an emotional outburst will certainly do so. After Kovek and Koss' arrest, anyone connected to them will be suspect."

T'Les' reply died on her lips as the import of Soval's words hit her. She composed herself and nodded.

"I assume you have found that which you seek?" Soval asked carefully.

"Possibly," T'Les nodded. "Almost certainly," she added. "I must hurry to where the others wait."

"You must come with me first," Soval held up a hand. "There are others interested in this and they may be able to help you. Their assistance could prove beneficial."

"Have you told someone of our work?" T'Les demanded.

"I had no need, they have deduced that and a great many other things on their own," Soval didn't quite lie. "One of them is T'Pol and she will also be at this meeting. I suggest that it would be good for the two of you if you were present."

"I have no time," T'Les shook her head, though clearly torn. "I would. . .It would be agreeable to see T'Pol, to try and explain my behavior, but there is probably no need. She will not be forgiving, and nor can I blame her," T'Les voice was almost bitter. "I do not regret my actions Soval, but I do regret having to take them. All I can do is remember that this was for the betterment of all, including her."

"Then tell her that," Soval said firmly. "Show her that, T'Les. It is time you trusted your daughter. Past time."

"Come with me."

STE

"Commander, there is an unusually high volume of traffic coming into orbit around the planet," Travis reported. Reed glanced at Ensign Evans at the science console. She had come aboard after the Expanse and was filling in for T'Pol, who had considered her 'agreeable' as a science officer.

"Concur, sir," she nodded after a minute. "And most of them appear to be Vulcan Combat Cruisers. Twelve, no thirteen in the last two hours. All are taking up a high orbit."

"Are we in their way?" Reed asked, a slight unease entering his thoughts.

"No sir."

"Continue to watch then, and let me know as things change."

"Aye, sir," both replied.

Why would so many Vulcan warships be coming home to roost at the same time?

STE

"How many" Dru'hak asked, his brow contorted in a frown.

"Fifteen in the last two hours," Julio confirmed. "I've ran the records back six hours, sir. They weren't here then. In fact none of them were here just three hours ago."

"Have we received any transmissions from the planet that might explain this?" the hulking Klingon asked.

"No sir. Whatever recall was issued, it as done before we arrived I'd imagine."

"Continue to monitor the situation. If the number increases I wish to know at once."

"Aye, Commander," Julio nodded and went back to work.

There was no reason for so much additional firepower over a planet that was always well protected. Dru'hak wondered why there was a sudden surge in the ship count over Vulcan, but there was no apparent reason as yet.

"Julio, make sure we are monitoring all frequencies we can," he ordered gently. "And inform _Charon_ to cut their distance from us to half," he added after another minute. "Use Lord Grim's authorization for that."

"Aye, sir."

Dru'hak did not think Trip would object once he saw what was happening. Of course, he might not know anymore about what was happening than Dru'hak did.

Still, one could not trust Vulcans.

STE

T'Les eyed her new son-in-law with a small amount of trepidation which she successfully suppressed. This man, this human, had not only defeated Koss, he had done so easily. He was not an average human to say the least.

"We have come as requested," Soval began. "How may we serve?"

"We've deduced a few things since our last meeting," Jon said evenly. His usual annoyance and anger was no where in evidence. "Including the fact that T'Pol's father was most likely a Romulan spy, perhaps a high level one, which is why Kovek and Koss were so adamant that T'Pol go through with the wedding."

"Explain," Soval spoke sharper than he intended, which meant he was a fraction louder than normal.

"The Romulans are coming back," Trip said easily. "T'Pol's father, happens he is a big man among 'em, he'd be maybe inclined to be more supportive of Kovek and his family if they were united in marriage, yeah?"

"A logical deduction," Soval nodded. "That presupposes that Solan was, in fact, a Romulan. As one of his closest colleagues, I find that difficult to grasp."

"How difficult was it to 'grasp' that V'Las was one?" Jon asked, again with an even tone. Soval had to admit he was impressed at the human's mastery of himself.

"Point," Soval acknowledge with a nod. "All this is fascinating, but what has it to do with our current situation."

"Vulcan Security Services, in the form of a fella named Skon has fingered a young Vulcan woman named T'Pau as the bomber of the UE embassy," Jon said flatly.

"That is a lie," T'Les said at once. "T'Pau is known to me She would never use violence, especially not against those who are not her enemy. She is dedicated to the peaceful pursuit of the study of Surak."

"That's what we've decided," Jon shocked them both. "Thing is, Skon is going to head into the Forge, tomorrow probably, hunting for her and anyone that's with her, likely intending to kill them once they're found. Ambassador Ross has managed to convince Skon that it's in Vulcan's best interest to allow myself and my security team to tag along and take part in the 'investigation'."

"There will likely be no investigation," Soval intoned, one eyebrow raised.

"That's what we figure, too," Trip took over. "Jon and Hayes are already committed to going with Skon. What we want to do is find someone who can locate this T'Pau, and anyone else that's part of this movement, and move them to safety. Away from wherever this Skon character is going to be."

"You seek to take her yourself," T'Les accused.

"Don't care one way or another about her," Trip shook his head. "But I do have a problem with bullies. And this is starting to look like a frame job to me. According to T'Pol and Kov, T'Pau ain't much more than a teenager by human standards. And the feller she follows after, he apparently ain't done nobody a wrong of any kind. Which means that V'Las has some reason to fear them. If he fears them, that makes me like them, and want to help them. Simple as that."

"What help can you provide, Captain?" Soval asked.

"I can provide a fire team of men and women who are just as capable as I am," Trip said evenly. "Very experienced human soldiers who will not be slowed by the conditions in the Forge or anything else. That is if I can find someone to take 'em where they need to go."

"She will not leave, nor will Syrran, until the Kir'shara is located," T'Les shook her head. "Too much has been sacrificed for us to fail at this point. If V'Las agents find the Kir'shara before we do it will be destroyed. Lost forever and all time. It is too great a loss to comprehend."

She spoke with complete sincerity, her voice filled with conviction and maybe a bit of regret.

"This is what you would have me bonded to Koss over," T'Pol said quietly.

"Yes," T'Les nodded. "Once the Kir'shara was located, I could have used that influence to have the marriage annulled. Knowing that Koss was Romulan would have made even that unnecessary."

"Wait," Trip held up a hand. "You _knew_ he was a Rommie and would have forced her to marry him anyway?" Jon frowned as Trip's forehead seemed to ripple slightly.

"Trip, calmly now," Kov spoke softly.

"Don't calmly me," Trip growled and this time Jon was certain he saw Trip's jaw line move slightly. "What the hell kind of a woman would put her daughter in the hands of an animal like that just to find some dead man's writings?"

"Trip," T'Pol said carefully. "The Kir'shara is more than just a dead man's writings. You compared what has been done with the Kir'shara to what Earth religions have done to the bible. Imagine if your bible had actually been altered, rather than simply 'mis-interpreted'," she said. "What would it mean to your people to find the original. The real thing."

Trip said nothing but he appeared calmer at least.

"That is what makes this so important," T'Pol continued.

"I am glad you understand," T'Les sounded relieved.

"Do not think for an instant that I will forgive you for handing me to that criminal," T'Pol's voice cracked across the room. "But had you told me what you were doing, I would have done anything else to help you. Would have come home to aid you in finding what you seek. Instead you lied to me and used me, planned to bargain with my very life for your own aims."

"T'Pol, it was too important to allow anything to interfere," T'Les said. "You must understand."

"I completely understand that you would have sacrificed me to the Romulans, and do so knowing that my treatment at their hands would have been harsh at best," T'Pol told her mother, completely _out_ of understanding.

"It was for the greater good," T'Les said. "The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few."

"That's a stupid thing for a parent to say about her child," Trip said flatly. "And let me assure you, right now, that any more business like that will end _permanently_ for someone. Understand what I'm saying? The first being of any kind that so much as gives T'Pol a mean look is dog food. _Sehlat_ food for you, I guess," he added.

"There is no need for threats, Captain," Soval responded.

"That wasn't a threat," Trip replied just as flaty. "That was a promise. And you're definitely included on that list, Soval. I'm not really part of Earth anymore, so the fact that you're an ambassador and all means exactly not a damn thing to me. Make sure you keep that in mind next time you plan to use my _aduna_ as part of your schemes."

"He was not privy to my schemes," T'Les surprised everyone in the room. She looked to Soval and then to the rest.

"I used him just as I used you," he told T'Pol. "Just as I would have used anyone to accomplish my goal. You may think of me as you like. I knew that I would be losing everything to accomplish my mission. That is the nature of service."

No one spoke for several seconds. Soval regarded T'Les with something like appreciation. She had just done something he would never have allowed himself to do. Exonerate him at least nominally from the near dire fate T'Pol had almost suffered.

"Anyway," Jon shook the moment away. "T'Les, are you willing to lead that team into the Forge and meet with T'Pau? We have got to secure her safety before Skon can get to her. If he managed to kill or capture her then their story holds water and becomes the official story. We can't allow that to happen."

"We will not abandon the search for the Kir'shara," T'Les was adamant. "And I believe I now know where to search for it. But we must move quickly." She looked at Jon.

"And you, Archer? Are you willing to go into the Forge with me? Against Skon and the others? To assist with this endeavor? To rid Vulcan of V'Las and the threat of Romulan domination?"


	12. Chapter 12

_Just to verify; I make no money from these stories. I'm just playing with the characters because the show was cancelled. Totally okay not to sue me :)_

Chapter Twelve

"And you, Archer? Are you willing to go into the Forge with me? Against Skon and the others? To assist with this endeavor? To rid Vulcan of V'Las and the threat of Romulan domination?"

Jon looked at her for a long moment before responding, thinking of how he could manage it. He needed this T'Pau, and he needed her to be alive. He was as sure as he was of his own name that while she might be a little loopy, considering T'Les' apparent state of mind, she wasn't his bomber.

He had to go with T'Les to prove he was willing to put his money where his mouth was.

"Yes," he said simply. He took a communicator from his pocket and opened it.

"Archer for Ross," he said simply.

" _Ross_ ," everyone heard seconds later.

"Ambassador I won't be able to go into the Forge with Hayes tomorrow," he said evenly. "I'm pursuing a lead using other means. I'll be out of contact for a while, perhaps even a few days."

" _Understood,_ " came the reply at once. " _Good luck_." The call ended and Jon looked at T'Les.

"When do you want to leave?"

Trip walked to a wall unit and entered a code. Seconds later Julio Givens was looking at him.

"M'lord," he said evenly. "We have a lot of increased traffic up here in the last two hours or so. Fifteen Vulcan cruisers have warped in during that time. We're reading other signals too far out yet to identify, but. . .well."

"Understood," Trip nodded, glancing at Soval. "I need Hunter and five of his best people in a shuttle down here ASAP. Tell them to be prepared for extended operations in the Forge escorting one human and one Vulcan. Commodore Archer is in charge and Jason will report directly to him."

"Understood sir," Julio nodded. "Dru'hak would like a word." Givens' face was replaced by the image of Trip's Klingon executive officer.

"My Lord Grim," Dru'hak's voice grated, "I have ordered _Charon_ to move closer by half in light of all this traffic. I can see no need for it, yet it is here. Something has to be happening. I ordered _Charon_ to move in your name in the event we required support."

"Okay," Trip nodded. "Sounds like a good deal. I'll be returning shortly it looks like, anyway. We'll try and figure out what's going on then. Did you hear my orders for Jason?"

"He is preparing the team now, my lord."

"All right then," Trip nodded again. "See you in a few." He shut the unit off and looked at Soval.

"Sounds like something pretty big's about to happen."

"Indeed," Soval looked puzzled. "I know of no reason for such an action."

"Maybe a little distraction for when the Romulans come?" Trip asked. "Your fleet is the bulwark of your defenses. Eliminate their effectiveness and Vulcan is vulnerable."

"True," Soval nodded. "I see no way for V'Las to do so, however."

"Well, he's pulling ships in for some reason," Trip shrugged. "Meantime I got troops on the way down to take you to the Forge," he told Jon. "It's time I got back to my ship I think. Something is going on, somewhere."

"T'Pol will you be coming with us?" T'Les asked.

"No, she will not," Trip answered that. "She'll be coming with me, where I can keep her safe from you and anyone else who means her any harm." He cast a glare at Soval for good measure. T'Pol said nothing but Jon noted her head raise ever so slightly and suppressed a grin. It seemed that she was very happy having been 'won' by Trip. He wondered what had happened to Trip and Neera. He hadn't even considered that until now. In the Expanse the regal woman had been nearly glued to Trip at the hip.

Well, it wasn't his business.

"All right, I need to get outfitted for the Forge," Jon said, breaking the uncomfortable silence. "What is everyone else planning to do?"

"I will make a call and have gear brought for you and T'Les," Soval said. "May I use your com unit, Kov?"

"Of course."

Soval entered an address and a male Vulcan appeared almost at once.

"I require three sets of gear suitable for operations in the Forge," Soval said without preamble. He gave them the berthing information for Kov's ship.

"We will see to it at once," the man on the screen nodded and was gone. Soval turned back to the others.

"They should be here momentarily."

"Jason and them should be here soon," Trip added.

"Well, I'm looking forward to it," Jon lied.

STE

Jason Hunter and his people looked impressive, Jon decided. They had the same hardness about them that Trip now had, and simply _looked_ like they could indeed handle the Forge, the Vulcans, and probably the Romulans on the side.

"How many people do you have, Trip?" Jon asked.

"Enough to keep the Earth safe," Trip replied cryptically. "And that's all I need."

"Makes sense," Jon nodded.

"We're prepared, my lord," Jason reported, standing tall before his commander.

"Make sure they survive," Trip ordered. "Commodore Archer needs to find a Vulcan girl, and maybe her leader, somewhere in the Forge. The Vulcan woman will accompany you and should know the way, but Archer is in charge and I want him to stay unharmed. I need that girl alive to prove that V'Las is a lyin' two faced sumbitch that needs to be shot out of a torpedo tube."

"It will be done," Hunter said simply and looked to Archer, obviously waiting for orders.

"We can use your shuttle to get there, Trip?" Jon asked.

"Yours for the duration. Jason and them will need it to get back to me when it's over."

"Let's get going, then," Jon ordered. "T'Les I'm assuming you can find your way in the dark?"

"Vulcan is no place to be in the dark, Commodore," T'Pol advised.

"There will be no danger," Hunter promised in a tone that spoke of absolute confidence.

"See to it," Trip nodded. He turned to Jon.

"Good luck, Jon," he said simply and hugged his old friend. "Don't get in no trouble."

"Same to you," Archer smiled. "Thanks for the help, Trip."

"Always." Just before the group broke up Soval's com unit pinged. He looked at it with a slight frown before taking it up.

"Soval." Pause. "Yes." Pause. "I see." Pause. "Peace and long life." He folded the unit and put it away.

"It would seem that a number of things has happened in the last hour or so," he said calmly. "V'Las has issued orders to the Vulcan fleet to prepare for an attack upon Andoria. He has ordered the bombing of the Forge in an attempt to destroy the Syrranites and presumably the Kir'Shara." He paused.

"And he has issued an order for my arrest for treason against Vulcan."

STE

"You know, I don't like Soval," Hoshi said to no one in particular, "but treason? I don't buy it," she shook her head.

"Nor do I," Reed agreed. "But we don't know what's going on below. This could be some ploy or another. Could also be a lie," he pointed out."

"Could be, but-" she turned suddenly, hand to her ear piece. She looked back at Reed.

"It's the High Command, for Commodore Archer."

"On screen," Reed ordered, straightening his jacket out of habit. Soon an older Vulcan male appeared on the screen.

"Where is Archer?" he demanded.

"And you are?" Reed asked politely.

"I am V'Las, High Minister of Vulcan," the man said testily. "Where is Archer?"

"It's an honor to meet you, sir," Reed bowed his head slightly as he lied. "Commodore Archer is currently at the embassy, sir, arranging transfer of our dead personnel to the ship for transport home among other duties. I'm temporarily in command until his return."

"I thought that T'Pol of Vulcan was the First officer," V'Las said.

"Commander T'Pol has left the ship, sir," Reed fought to keep his puzzlement from showing. "She was to be married. Today, I think."

"It is time for you to depart Vulcan," V'Las changed the subject suddenly. "Leave orbit and be gone."

"Sir, we're still retrieving our away team from the embassy, and as I said, we're about to begin transport of the deceased to our ship for transport home to Earth. I don't see how we can accomplish that if we're not here."

V'Las appeared flustered at that for a moment but then nodded slightly.

"You will depart as soon as these duties are completed." With that the screen went dark.

"Well, he was a chipper sort of fellow, wasn't he?" Reed smiled tightly. "Get me the Commodore, please."

STE

"Welcome back, my lord," Dru'hak bowed slightly. "This must be Lady T'Pol."

"Dru'hak, my executive officer," Trip introduced T'Pol. "This is T'Pol, and yes, she is a lady, every inch of it. She is also my wife." Dru'hak straightened at that and gave a fist across his chest plate salute.

"It is an honor, My Lady."

"Thank you," T'Pol nodded regally.

"The grumpy looking one is Ambassador Soval, the Vulcan Ambassador to Earth. He's also currently a fugitive from the V'Las regime. He'll be our guest for a day or two. Probably needs a room, somewhere far from mine," Trip added.

"I'll see to it at once, sir." The Klingon moved to make arrangements for their guest while T'Pol gathered her few things.

"This way," Trip told her and led her to his richly appointed rooms. T'Pol, who had never been aboard the _Acheron_ , was impressed.

"Quite a vessel," she noted.

"She'll do in a pinch," Trip grinned. "Get settled in. I'll see about having a shuttle head over to _Enterprise_ and get your things. I need to go have a word with someone right quick after I do that. Make yourself at home until I get back."

"You are going to see the doctor," T'Pol said evenly.

"She deserves to hear it from me," Trip nodded.

"I hold her in high regard, Trip," T'Pol said softly. "She cured me of a condition that would have been fatal if not for her help."

"Then remember that when you think she's trespassin'."

STE

"Married?" Delana felt her heart breaking all over again. "To a Vulcan?"

"It wasn't. . .I didn't mean it to be like that," Trip shrugged. "It just. . .I can't explain it other than there was some kinda connection between us when we served on _Enterprise_ together. It was always there, and this has sorta brought it to the fore. It wasn't my plan, Delana."

"I could see her affection for you then," Delana nodded, fighting her tears. "She does care for you very much. That is all I could ask." She looked at him for a moment. "I suppose this means you will not need me as a surrogate?" she grinned slightly.

"This really ain't the time for that, Delana," Trip tried not to sound harsh. "We could be at war with Vulcan before I get back to the bridge. Or them with the Romulans."

"It's okay," she shrugged. Suddenly she hugged him tightly, and Trip responded in kind. He held her for a long time, until she broke the contact, stepping back and wiping her eyes.

"If she's not good to you I'll kick her ass," she said flatly. Trip smiled.

"I bet you would."

"Go on, then, and kill Vulcans or whoever," she waved him away. "I'll need to prepare to treat injured if we're going to be in battle."

"You're a rare woman, Delana Grix," Trip said softly.

"Which you apparently cannot see," she replied just as softly, but only after he had left the ward. Then she went to work.

Lord Grim was about to go to war yet again.

STE

"I'm going to be out of communication for a while, Commander Reed," Jon said. "I'll be working on a lead in the investigation into the bombing."

"We've been ordered out of orbit by V'Las, sir," Reed informed him. "I pointed out that you were still on planet dealing with the aftermath of the bombing when he wanted to know where you were. He expressed surprise that T'Pol was no longer part of this ship's compliment as well. I told him we would have to remain until we could retrieve our away teams and arrange to transport our dead aboard for return to Earth. He's allowed us until we're finished to depart."

"Figures," Jon grimaced slightly. "Look, there's a lot going on that I can't get into, Malcolm. Expect to get word from. . .from somewhere else, soon. You're in command until I return. If I don't return, then once you've completed the retrieval, check with Ambassador Ross to see if he needs anything else, and if he doesn't then. . .then go ahead and break orbit and head to Earth."

"Call Starfleet and tell them that I strongly recommend that all ships now enroute to Vulcan be recalled for the present time due to political problems within the host nation. Stress that I highly recommend it. Speak to Forrest personally, even if you have to raise hell to get through. Tell them you're calling for me."

"Aye, Commodore," Reed's face showed his surprise but he held his questions.

"You know what's going on, but there's more at stake than I can get into in the time I have," Jon added. "Keep our ship safe, Commander."

"I will, sir," Reed nodded and the screen went blank.

"Sir, we're being hailed by. . ." she turned to look at him quizzically, "the _Reaper_?"

"On screen," Reed sighed. Melodramatic Yanks. A few seconds passed and Trip Tucker's face appeared on the screen.

" _TRIP_!" Hoshi screamed and Travis Mayweather shot to his feet, eyes wide.

"Hey kids," Trip smiled easily. "Know this is a shock to the system and all, but we'll have to catch up a bit later. Malcolm, need you to call me in about five minutes. Also I got a shuttle on its way to collect T'Pol's gear. Have someone see to that would you? She'll be stayin' with me from now on."

"Trip, how are you still alive!" Hoshi demanded. "And why the _hell_ have you let us think you were dead all this time!"

"Hosh, not now," Trip shook his head. "We're on the clock in a big way here, okay? I promise, happens I get the chance I'll have you over for dinner and try and explain what I can, all right?" He looked back at Malcolm.

"Five minutes, Mal," he repeated and the screen went blank. Hoshi turned to glare at Reed, and Travis looked a bit hostile as well.

"I can't help but note, _Commander_ ," Hoshi almost hissed, "that you don't seem surprised to see Commander Tucker alive and well."

"It's a long story," Reed sighed. "I'll let Trip explain it when he gets around to it. Have someone collect T'Pol's gear, I think it's already packed, and get it to the airlock to meet Trip's shuttle. We might not have a lot of time to work with. Meanwhile, I have a call to make. Two of them in fact."

Reed knew he was in for it but this wasn't his fault. That probably wasn't going to buy him any sympathy with the crew, especially with Hoshi, Travis and above all Anna Hess. He made his way to the ready room and used one of the devices Julio had brought him to call the _Reaper_.

 _God that sounds creepy_ , he thought to himself.

"Mal," Trip's face appeared suddenly. "Here's the rundown, but it's gotta be quick. First, Jon is headed into the Forge lookin' for some Vulcan girl that V'Las says attacked the embassy. It's a crock o' shit of course, but Jon needs to find her before V'Las and his minions can kill 'er. I got a fire team o' my own people escortin' him and T'Les, T'Pol's mother, into the Forge. Hayes and his boys will be going with Skon, a Vulcan security goon who is after the girl. You won't probably hear from either of them for a while because the Forge is so magnetic or whatever that tech really don't work well in there."

"The cruisers that are incoming are because V'Las has ordered the Vulcans to attack Andoria. If you see us depart, it's because I'm trying to head that off. I hate to leave all this to you but. . .we can't let a war break out between Vulcan and Andoria. That's probably all the Romulans are waitin' on to launch a war of their own."

"Bloody hell," Mal swore.

"Got that right," Trip nodded. "Soval, meanwhile, has been declared a traitor by V'Las and there's a warrant for his arrest. Or whatever passes for a warrant on Vulcan. He's on my ship at the moment since I don't know what else to do with 'im and I kinda probably need to keep him safe despite the fact that what I'd rather do is shoot him into the sun." Reed snorted in amusement at Trip's vehemence.

"I had hoped to stay here and support Jon if he needed it, but. . .like I said, we really can't let V'Las launch this attack. Hopefully Soval can get some of the Vulcan Captains to stop short. If not then I'm probably gonna be public enemy number one on Vulcan for the next thousand years or so."

"Trip, _can_ you stop them?" Reed asked. "I mean, I know that your ship is pretty much a carbon copy of _Acheron_ , but it's still just one ship."

"I've got another 'bout a half-hour out," Trip didn't quite smirk. "I think between the two of us we can give 'em something to think about."

"I'd bloody well think so," Reed murmured.

"So now you're caught up, at least for now," Trip said. "I got no idea what may happen around here, Mal. I will say that aside from Jon bein' on Vulcan, it ain't your worry. And I got people protecting him anyway. Very capable people, if you catch my drift."

"I do," Reed nodded.

"Well, stay safe and keep your powder dry, Mal," Trip sighed. "I'll probably be in orbit until the Vulcan fleet breaks out. We're a good bit faster'n they are so gettin' ahead of 'em won't be a problem. When we do go it'll probably be in a hurry though."

"We'll do what we can, mate," Reed promised. "I have to call Forrest now and bring him up to speed."

"Good luck." Trip's face disappeared with that and Reed sat back for a second, pondering. He needed to talk to Forrest, but if he did so over the regular channels then the Vulcans might intercept the transmission.

If he used one of Julio's boxes then Starfleet might wonder where he got the technology and demand to have it.

"If this isn't a right bloody mess," Reed shook his head. He really didn't have an option, he realized finally. This had to get to Starfleet. He hit the intercom.

"Communications," Hoshi didn't quite snarl.

"Lieutenant, I need the address to Admiral Forrest's office brought to me please. I further need you to call ahead and tell his office to expect a direct call to the Admiral in five minutes or so, and please stress that the duration of that call will be extremely limited. I can't waste any of that time waiting."

"After that, try and raise _Columbia_. Advise Captain Hernandez that Commodore Archer is recommending all inbound UE ships return to Earth and avoid Vulcan for the time being. _Stress_ that Commodore Archer _strongly_ urges that, and that word of his recommendation is being relayed to Starfleet via alternate channels. Ask her to contact any and all vessels that are inbound and have them hold in place or return to Earth, whichever she feels is best."

"Yes sir," Hoshi's hostility was in abeyance as she listened to Reed's orders with a growing trepidation. "I'll get Starfleet right now."

Reed sat back waiting. He'd always thought he wanted his own command some day, but now he was re-thinking that policy.

Maybe if he just commanded a warship, he decided. No politics. No drama. Yeah, that was the way to go.

STE

"This is as far as we can safely go aboard the transport," T'Les said, indicating the plateau coming up on their right. "From this point on the Forge will have a detrimental effect on most forms of technology."

"Roger that," Hunter nodded and spoke to the pilot. The shuttle descended quickly and surely to land just inside the Forge.

"Lets hit it people," Hunter ordered. "Jax, Nice, take point. Which direction ma'am?" he asked T'Les.

"That way," she pointed in the failing light of Vulcan's false twilight, indicating a peak in the distance. "That is our landmark. We must be very careful here, human. There are predators of all kinds here in the wilds. Even some of the vegetation is deadly."

"We'll mind it, ma'am," Hunter nodded. The squad filed out of the shuttle, packs shouldered and weapons ready. Once they were assembled Hunter looked at the pilot.

"Activate camouflage," he ordered. The pilot hit a button on a small remote and the shuttle suddenly blended into the background.

"How in the hell?" Jon goggled.

"Found it," Hunter said straight faced. "Let's bend on it, people. Clock's running." The two point soldiers took out at a run while the others formed a diamond around Jon and T'Les, Hunter at the tip.

"Whatever happens, let us deal with it," Hunter said to Jon. "Lord Grim's orders are clear; you are not to risk yourself in this. Our orders are to get you safely to the Vulcan woman and then back again."

"I don't take orders from 'Lord Grim'," Jon almost bristled.

"We do," Hunter replied simply. "We will keep you alive whether you want it or not, Commodore. Please don't make that any harder than it already is."

Jon considered that and nodded his acknowledgment He had no reason to mouth off like that. More so, as he studied Hunter and the others, he realized that in his haste he had missed some things. Like the fact that three of them had swords slung across their backs. Two more carried crossbows. Still another carried a pair of _sai_ and a pair of some kind of curved tomahawk type weapon. And all were armed with suppressed projectile weapons of a sort one rarely saw any more. These people knew their business, whatever it was.

"Sorry, Mister Hunter," he said calmly. "That was out of line. You're doing your job so I can do mine. Take us there, we'll follow."

"Thank you sir," Hunter's face might have relaxed ever so slightly. "Let's move out."

"Why do they refer to my daughter's husband as this 'Lord Grim'?" T'Les asked Jon.

"It's a title of some kind," Jon shrugged. "Not really a name, but a proper title as it's called, which his followers use to address him and refer to him. Part of a very old Earth custom."

"Grim does not sound appealing," T'Les noted.

"It's not," Jon admitted, thinking of that coupled with the name of Trip's new ship. "It's a reflection on Trip as much as anything."

"Explain."

"The Grim Reaper is a pop culture fixture, a reference to Death in the form of a being that comes to collect the dead. Every culture on Earth that I know of has some variation of it."

"This does not sound like a name that would inspire followers," T'Les observed.

"It's not meant to inspire his followers," Jon admitted. "They don't need it, as you can clearly see. They follow him for other reasons. It's meant to inspire something in his enemies."

"Indeed?" T'Les raised a barely visible eyebrow. "What would that be?"

"Fear."

There as no more discussion for a while.

STE

"Reed, where is Archer, and what the hell do you mean issuing orders to other ships?" Forrest demanded. "And why are you calling me from an 'undisclosed' com unit."

"Sir, please," Reed held up a hand. "I have a very limited amount of time. Let me get this out. Firstly, Commodore Archer is currently on Vulcan trying to track down a young Vulcan woman that V'Las claims is responsible for the bombing. There is no way that she's guilty, sir, for a number of reasons, perhaps chief among them that she is barely out of puberty for a Vulcan."

"Commodore Archer and Ambassador Ross are convinced that this T'Pau is a patsy they are using to justify the bombing of the Forge in an attempt to eradicate T'Pau and a group of pacifistic Vulcans that are searching for a historical artifact. One that could turn V'Las' government upside down and probably destroy it. That in turn might allow for a more Earth friendly government to take it's place, especially with Commodore Archer risking his own life to aid in that transition."

"V'Las meanwhile has apparently ordered the Vulcan fleet to attack Andoria, starting a war. We believe that this is an attempt to distract the Vulcans from the threat of the Romulans, allowing them to simply walk in and take over."

"Atop that, V'Las has declared Soval a traitor and issued a warrant for his arrest. Soval is currently aboard another ship in hiding, but trying to stop the Vulcan fleet by appealing to some of the Captains that are personally known to him."

"We can't leave because we protested our _orders_ to do so in order to retrieve our away parties and load the bodies of our people murdered in the embassy aboard _Enterprise_. However, there is no reason to expose the other ships to what may become a hostile environment. While we are doing all that we can to help turn this around, ultimately this is a Vulcan problem. Sir."

Forrest's look of indignation had gradually turned to surprise, then to anger, then concern and finally outright panic.

"My God," he almost whispered. "War between Andoria and Vulcan? There hasn't been any trouble between them since Paan Mokar, has there?"

"No sir, but V'Las doesn't give a shit about Andoria, pardon the expression sir. He's just trying to create a situation where Vulcan isn't in a position to defend itself from Romulus."

"What is his connection to the Romulans?" Forrest asked.

"I don't know that, sir," Reed admitted. He had not been briefed on the likelihood that V'Las was a Romulan. "Whatever it is, he's apparently willing to start a bloody war to help them achieve it."

"Do we think Soval can stop this?" Forrest asked.

"He has some very high powered assistance, sir," Reed nodded. "I'm honestly more concerned that the Romulans might show up here at any second once the Vulcan fleet is on its way."

"There's really nothing we can do about any of this, is there?" Forrest mused. "Continue your operations to retrieve your away teams, Commander, and be prepared to evac the embassy if necessary. I'll call off the other ships, but _Columbia_ will continue on and hold position just out from Vulcan. If we need to evac the embassy, Hernandez and her ship will come in handy. The living take priority over the dead," he ordered and Reed nodded his understanding.

"Meanwhile, I'm ordering you to take all necessary actions to safeguard your command," Forrest said firmly. "If it looks like _Enterprise_ is in danger, you are to strike orbit and depart immediately for Earth. We'll have to hope that we can get our people out through diplomatic means," he grimaced.

"Very well, Admiral," Reed was grim. "Understood."

"Godspeed, Commander. Forrest Out." The screen went dark and Reed leaned back, exhaling mightily.

He _definitely_ had to re-think that command thing.

STE

"Count's up to twenty-seven now, milord," Julio called. "That's twenty-seven new arrivals that is. There were already several ships in orbit or in space dock."

"Got a total count?" Trip asked from his chair.

"I have identified thirty-three _D'Kyr_ class combat cruisers along with at least twenty-two lighter combatants," T'Pol supplied from the science station. She had taken over the post not long after she had settled into 'their' quarters and had a chance to freshen up and meditate.

"A sizable force," Soval sighed. "I have contacted eleven of the Captains that I know personally. Three refused to speak to me because of V'Las' declaration that I am guilty of treason. The others listened but will follow their orders."

"Gotta love that unquestioning obedience," Trip shook his head ruefully. "All right then, we do it the hard way. Kron, what's our status?"

"We are green across the board, milord," the Klingon weapons officer looked absolutely thrilled at the opportunity to match his ship and skills against the Vulcans.

"Julio, status update on _Charon_?"

"Captain Meadows reports all in readiness," Julio reported. "He's standing by about twenty-minutes out at warp 5."

"Good deal," Trip nodded. He didn't know Garrison Meadows well, but the man was steady and smart. And completely ruthless.

"What are you going to do, Tucker?" Soval asked.

"Whatever I have to in order to keep Vulcan from attacking Andoria," Trip shrugged. "If you can't stop 'em, then that will likely mean killin' a lot o' Vulcan cruisers, looks like."

"They are following orders," Soval pointed out.

"Illegal orders, apparently issued by an illegal commander," Trip countered. "And, I gotta tell you, Soval. Andoria has been lot better to Earth than Vulcan has. If there's a war between the two, I'll probably side with them."

"You wife is Vulcan," Soval protested.

"And look how well you treated her," Trip snarled suddenly, feeling that dark urge to maim and tear once again well up inside him. Across the bridge T'Pol's head shot up suddenly, her face still but her eyes showing the slightest bit of alarm.

"There were other conce-"

"Soval, I would just as soon shoot you out a torpedo tube as look at you right now," Trip growled. "The truth is, the way you and the others have treated T'Pol is reason enough for me to glass your entire world so far as I'm concerned." He rose from his chair, looking down at Soval. He slowly lowered his head until he was staring straight into Soval's eyes. By sheer force of will Soval prevented himself from taking an involuntary step back.

"Get something straight, Soval, and get it right here and now. I don't care _what_ happens to Vulcan except for two people, and you are _not_ one of them. Your people would have let T'Pol die rather than treat her for a disease caused by a violent assault by another Vulcan. You may think that's okay somehow, but I _don't_." Soval detected a slight ripple in the skin of Tucker's forehead.

"So you need to understand something, Grumpy. My concern is Earth and the people under my command. So long as Kov's family and anyone T'Pol cares about survives, the rest of you can kiss my ass. Got it?"

Soval nodded, working to contain his frustration.

"Then you can either keep trying to stop your ships from following V'Las' orders, or you can watch me blow them to atoms. And I can't really care which it is." With that Trip went back to pretending Soval didn't exist.

The older Vulcan glanced at T'Pol only to see his one time ward looking at him with an odd look of satisfaction. And perhaps pride.

A look that both puzzled and concerned him.


	13. Chapter 13

_Again, no copyright infringement intended, no money changing hands, no profit of any kind (other than the occasional ego stroking review :) ). Completely acceptable not to sue me, call me names, or say bad things about me._

Chapter Thirteen

Archer knew heat. Or he thought he had. He thought he'd known exhaustion and heat and sweating until he couldn't.

But he hadn't really known those things at all. Not until now.

While their small team had began their march in the cover and cool of darkness, the Vulcan sun was now high overhead and beating down upon his head. All their heads. Yet of the eight people in their party, he was the one doing the most suffering.

T'Les, as a woman of Vulcan, was accustomed to the heat of the harsh world and bore it as well as any native would be expected to. That's not to say she didn't feel it's oppressiveness since she clearly did. But neither was she laboring as he was.

Hunter, still on the tip of their diamond, appeared to be as fresh as a daisy compared to both of them. He couldn't help but wonder how that was, but he'd noted that Hunter and the rest of the 'team' were extremely tight-lipped.

"We're going to have to stop soon," he gasped out finally. Hunter turned to look at him.

"I'm not going to be able to keep going in this heat, Mister Hunter," Jon hated to admit it but knew it was true. "Whatever trick you guys are using, I don't have it."

"We're just acclimated, sir," Hunter shrugged. He reached up to the throat mike he was wearing.

"Nice, any sign of a usable shelter?"

"Affirm. Cave, three hundred meters ahead," came the reply.

"Check it out, assure it's safe for our packages."

"Roger that," Nice answered. Hunter looked at Archer.

"It's pretty much time to take a break anyway, Commodore," he said easily. "I don't know if you've noticed, but we've been on the move over twelve hours."

"I really hadn't," Jon realized, feeling slightly better about his exhaustion.

"We'll rest for six to eight hours, local and then resume our trek after the sun's not as high," Hunter promised.

"Cave clear and secure, sir," Nice's voice came

"Roger that, we're inbound." Hunter waved the party forward and soon they were approaching the cave. Jon could see some kind of carcass lying outside the cave but didn't think anything of it until T'Les stumbled slightly seeing it.

"What's wrong?" he asked. Jon didn't especially like T'Les, but. . .one, he needed her, and two, despite the situation being what it was, she _was_ T'Pol's mother. That didn't buy her much at the moment, but T'Pol _might_ forgive her one day. Trip probably wouldn't, but then Trip didn't seem to be too big on forgiveness these days. Then again, Jon remembered, Trip had forgiven _him_ , so wonders were still possible.

"That is a _le-matya_ ," T'les pointed to the quadruped beast lying outside the cave entrance.

"Okay," Jon's voice clearly indicated that while he might should know what that meant, he didn't.

"It is a terrible predator, one that has poison in it's claws. We try to avoid them at all costs, even when using domesticated _sehlats_."

"Inside, please," Hunter ordered, looking around. "Cox, Bats, you've got first watch." The woman and a man carrying a sword both nodded and took up positions just inside the entrance to the cave.

"How did you kill the _le-matya_?" T'Les demanded.

"With a blade, ma'am," Nice replied calmly. "Hated to do it, seems like a beautiful creature. But he was absolutely intent on eating us."

"It is not a crime to kill in self-defense," T'Les replied automatically. "I was merely curious as to how you managed to defeat it. Most Vulcans would not have been able to overcome it."

"Interesting," Nice frowned. "I always thought Vulcans were pretty strong." He shrugged and settled in to rest.

"Vulcans are typically three to five times stronger than an equivalent human," T'Les replied, almost as a challenge. "A result of our greater gravity."

"Okay," Nice nodded, stretching slightly. "Good to know." With that he lowered his hat over his face and was almost instantly asleep.

T'Les looked at Jon with a questioning look on her face. He shrugged, not knowing what else to say. He lay back against the cave wall and tried to relax. No sooner had he closed his eyes than Hunter was prodding him. Jon opened his eyes to see a water bag.

"Better drink up, sir," Hunter told him. "Easy to get dehydrated in this environment." Jon took the bag and drank, then offered it back to Hunter. The commando passed it to T'Les who likewise drank. When she was finished she handed the bag to Hunter and he recapped it.

"You take none?" she asked.

"Already had mine," Hunter smiled close mouthed.

"I did not see," T'Les looked at him closely.

"Sorry," he smiled again and moved away.

She looked to Jon to speak but he was already asleep. She was surrounded by illogical humans who were conversely trying to help her. It made no sense to her.

She needed to meditate.

STE

"There are now forty-five _D'Kyr_ class cruisers in orbit, along with twenty-nine _Suurok_ class cruisers," T'Pol reported. "This does not include lighter vessels or survey ships that would normally not be a part of combat operations. They are not unarmed, however."

"That is a sizeable portion of our fleet," Soval said quietly. "Nearing sixty percent. Perhaps all that could be recalled quickly."

"That's pretty damn quick," Trip said. "He had to have called them in long before the bombing. And how the hell is he selling them on the need to attack Andoria. It can't be over the UE bombing, since he's blamin' that on that girl."

"T'Pau," Soval intoned. "Her name is T'Pau."

"And you know her, don't you," Trip closed his trap around Soval, eyes boring into the old Vulcan. Soval raised an eyebrow almost in salute to Tucker for catching him off guard.

"Yes, I do," he nodded.

"Soval, I'm completely fed up with bein' kept in the dark," Trip's voice was dangerously soft. "If I don't get the truth, the _whole_ truth, and nothin' _but_ the truth from you right here, right now, I'm gonna tear your head off." The words were spoken softly but everyone on the bridge came to a near state of attention. They knew those words were not hyperbole.

Soval was about to reply when T'Pol cut in.

"Please do not antagonize my _adun_ , Ambassador," her voice was carefully neutral. "He does not idly threaten. And you have tried his patience as far as is safe to do so."

Soval looked at her but saw nothing but truth on her face. T'Pol was telling him the complete truth. He allowed his gaze to sweep over the bridge and noted the careful attention that the crew there were paying him and Tucker.

Clearly they were waiting for their Captain to strike. Not a one showed any sign of doubt that Tucker meant every word he said. He finally looked back at Tucker.

It was clear that this vexing and annoying human was hoping that Soval would continue to withhold information from him, supplying him with an opportunity to do as he'd promised.

"T'Pau is, as T'Les told you, a very young woman by Vulcan standards," Soval began. "She is thirty-two years of age by your reckoning. In your society she would be what you refer to as a teenager."

"I already know that," Trip said testily, eyeing Soval's head as if it were a pumpkin.

 _No, a watermelon_ , he mused instead. _Yeah, a fat, ripe watermelon on a nice summer day. Crisp wind blowing off the ocean_. He smiled at the thought and several of the crew tensed.

 _Adun, you should not consider killing the Ambassador as he may yet prove useful, or even necessary_ , he heard in his mind.

 _T'Pol?_ he thought, shooting her a puzzled look. Her face was carefully schooled but her eyes were laughing at him.

 _I can hear you adun_ , she replied. _Do not damage Soval as he may be needed_.

 _Great, now there's two o' ya in my head_ , he groused and she had to turn away to avoid anyone seeing her smile.

"She was raised as an orphan by a monk named Syrran," Soval continued, unaware of the mental communication. "She followed him into the Forge in search of the K'Shara because she had no where else to go. Syrran is her only real family, though he is not any actual kin to her by blood or marriage. He has raised her from a child."

"Sounds like a heathy relationship," Trip managed not to sneer.

"In all likelihood it is not," Soval admitted. "She lacked a parental bond or the familiar surroundings that allow a Vulcan child to reach a healthy maturity. As a result she is emotionally handicapped."

"I'd think you'd look at that as a good thing," Trip snorted.

"We suppress our emotions Tucker because it is dangerous for us when we do not," Soval continued. "But we do _have_ emotions. We need the same kind of emotional training that you would receive as a child. What happens to human children who are deprived of the normal emotional development they should have in a healthy environment?"

Trip considered that and nodded his understanding.

"Point," he admitted. "Human children who grow up like that are usually emotionally closed off and prone to. . .well, bad things," he finished lamely.

"We are no different in that regard," Soval nodded. "Consider that she grew up in the custody of a man most consider to be mad, Tucker. He says that he has the _katra_ of Surak, the originator of Vulcan logic, within his head. That he carries the father of Logic that rules all Vulcans, and that through this possession he now knows where the actual Kir'Shara rests."

"I take it that's a big deal, the way you were talkin' 'bout it earlier," Trip had calmed slightly.

"Yes," Soval was actually sardonic. "A very big deal. It will likely cause the collapse of the V'Las government and cause great upheaval among our people."

"Sounds like a lot to risk," Trip frowned. "Like Vulcan would be in worse shape that it is now."

"For a short time, perhaps," Soval admitted. "But with V'Las in power Vulcan is doomed. We cannot continue under his rule any longer, Captain Tucker. So many of us have tried to halt or at least slow his actions but one by one we have been eliminated, or reduced to ineffectiveness. Cast aside."

"If we do not act, then all will be lost. But T'Pau, the 'girl' your Commodore looks for, she is in the custody of this monk Syrran. It is he who has influenced her, raised her, trained her to take his place if necessary."

"Because of her emotional damage, she is somewhat single minded and. . .ruthless, as you would call it. She believes that the Kir'Shara must be returned to the people of Vulcan and that any sacrifice necessary to make that happen is not only equally necessary, but justifiable."

"So she's motivated," Trip nodded.

"She is quite possibly deranged," Soval sighed. "I hope that I am wrong, of course, but if the emotional condition of T'Les is any example, then Syrran is quite capable of inducing that kind of madness in his followers." T'Pol turned again to look at them, her face once again a mask of Vulcanness.

"Explain," she ordered, and there was no mistaking that it was an order.

"T'Les has become increasingly hostile and emotionally challenged in recent months. Since her attachment to this project in fact. I try to believe that she is simply suffering from too little sleep and insufficient meditation, but I am no longer certain of anything. And if someone like T'Les can be so influenced, then what effect could Syrran have on a girl such as T'Pau?"

"You're sayin' she's a threat to Jon?" Trip asked.

"I'm saying that anything is possible," Soval replied.

"You think this girl is important to Vulcan's future?" Trip asked casually.

"I think she _is_ the future of Vulcan, be it good or ill," Soval admitted.

"Then you better hope the future of Vulcan minds her manners," Trip snorted. "The men I sent with Jon will eat her alive if she even looks at him wrong."

STE

"Sir, two figures approaching on our right flank," Hunter heard in his ear. "And the weather is acting up some."

"Roger that," Hunter replied. "We've got weather incoming," he told Jon and T'Les. "There's also two people coming this way."

"It is a sandfire," T'Les said after a moment of peering through the cave opening. "If there are others approaching, then we must allow them entrance. They will die outside."

"I don't think that's a good idea, sir," Hunter shook his head. "We don't know who they are."

"We must seal off the entrance of the cave," T'Les ordered. "The sandfire can kill if it hits you. But we must allow the travelers to shelter here," she stressed. "They will die if left outside."

"Why would they be out here in this, anyway?" he asked.

"They are likely pilgrims, on their way to one of the ancient temples that lie within the Forge!" T'Les was having to shout now to be heard over the approaching sandfire.

Damn it.

"Let them in!" Jon ordered. "We'll watch them closely, but we can't leave innocent people outside in that mess! For all we know they know where this place is and are heading here already!" The storm was really loud now.

"Yes sir," Hunter couldn't be heard over the storm but his face was easy to read. He motioned for Nice to allow the two Vulcans into the cave while the rest gathered stones to seal off the entrance against the storm.

"C'mon!" Jon ordered, taking T'Les by the arm. "We're in the way and you're in danger!" he pulled her toward the rear of the cave.

"Why would you care if I died?" T'Les shouted in order to be heard.

"I don't!" Jon assured her. "But T'Pol might want to try and re-establish a relationship with her mother someday!"

The answer surprised T'Les but she refused to allow it to show. Instead she allowed Jonathon Archer to drag her to the rear of the cave where he covered them both with a high density fiber blanket.

Outside the storm howled.

Hunter watched the two as they entered the cave, wrapped head to toe to protect them from both the sun and the sand. As soon as the two were inside three of the team began moving the rocks gathered into place to close off the entrance of the cave to keep the storm out. The two Vulcans turned to assist without a word.

Once finished the two removed their hoods and goggles, revealing an older male and a female of indeterminate age. She might have been young or middle aged, but the caked on grim on her face made that determination impossible for the humans.

"You are human?" the male asked, eyebrows raised.

"Yes sir," Hunter nodded.

"Fascinating. I am Suvarol," the man bowed slightly. "This is my traveling companion, T'Nor. We are traveling to the ruins of Frenhar on pilgrimage."

Hunter was about to reply when Archer dripped the blanket, helping T'Les rise.

"Good work, Mister Hunter," Jon said, brushing himself off a bit. "Hello, I'm Jonathon Archer."

"I am-"

"Syrran?"

STE

"That's a lot of Vulcan ships, Commander," Mayweather said with more calm than he felt.

"So it is, Lieutenant," Reed nodded. "I would say they are about ready to depart, wouldn't you?"

"They do appear to be forming up for transit," Mayweather nodded.

"There is a lot of traffic between them and the planet, Commander," Hoshi added. "Last minute orders I suppose or updates on the situation."

"Most likely," Reed agreed studying the plot. "There's not much we can do about it, though. Our orders are pretty clear. Where are we on the shuttlepod refueling?"

"Hess says both should be ready in another hour, sir," Evans reported from her console.

"We're being hailed," Hoshi cut in. "I'm almost certain it's V'Las."

"On screen," Reed sighed. The older Vulcan appeared on screen.

"Why is your ship still in orbit around my world?" he demanded without preamble.

"We're preparing to leave now, sir," Reed hedged slightly. "We have to make four more trips to the embassy grounds but our shuttles are not as capable as yours and required maintenance and fueling to complete the last runs. I'm afraid we've taxed them greatly over the last few days. Both should be back in service soon, and all the arrangements on planet are already made. We just have to finish the servicing and then we'll be through."

"Very well, but do not tarry,' V'Las ordered and then was gone. Reed breathed a sigh of relief. He had hoped that maybe a casual reference to Vulcan equipment 'superiority' would do the trick and it had. At least for the moment.

"Hoshi, are we keeping Captain Hernandez updated on the situation?" he asked.

"Every fifteen minutes, sir," she nodded.

"Forward her a copy of that last message from V'Las," he ordered. "She needs to be in the loop in the event we need her help."

"Aye, Commander," Hoshi nodded and began sending. She was still pissed at Malcolm, but was beginning to see that there was more going on here than Trip's sudden reappearance. Apparently only T'Pol's forced marriage had brought Trip here to start with. Hoshi smiled slightly at that. She had known it all along.

STE

"T'Les," Syrran sighed. "I had not planned to reveal myself to these humans."

"I apologize for my rashness," T'Les lowered her head minutely. "I was overeager as I bear what may be good news."

"You have found what we seek?" he asked.

"I believe so," she nodded, stepping forward with a piece of parchment. "The clue was the Mounds of Monovahr, and I have found a very aged map reference containing that geographical location."

"May I see it?" he asked, reaching for the paper. He studied the map for a few seconds and then nodded, a look of relief passing across his features.

"This appears familiar, and accurate," he nodded in a voice not quite his own. "You have done well, T'Les."

"I live to serve," T'Les replied.

"You must be T'Pau," Jon said to the Vulcan female. She looked at him without expression.

"Are you aware that you stand accused by V'Las and the Vulcan government for bombing the UE embassy?" he asked.

"She has done no such thing," Syrran replied for her.

"Yeah, we already worked that out," Jon nodded.

"Then why are you here?" T'Pau spoke for the first time. The youthfulness of her features was visible now that they knew she was young.

"Because we think V'Las is going to try and kill you," Jon said truthfully. "In fact he plans to kill all of you, using the bombing as an excuse."

"Why would you care about that?" T'Pau said evenly. "About the life of a Vulcan?"

"All life is worthwhile, young lady," Jon replied sternly. "Human, Vulcan, Andorian, makes no difference. In order for us to stop V'Las, we need to keep you alive. Dead you're an accused murderer killed resisting arrest. Alive, you're someone with a story to tell. A story that V'Las doesn't want told."

Surprise rippled across all three Vulcan faces, gone before it was really there but still clearly visible for just an instant.

"You have honored your people, Jonathon Archer," Syrran said gently. "What plan do you have that has brought you to this place?"

"We have to get T'Pau somewhere safe," Jon said. "Somewhere that V'Las can't silence her. Or you for that matter," he added. "I'm led to believe that you may know something, may even possess something that can make life difficult for V'Las, even end his reign of terror. Is that true?"

"And if it were?" Syrran asked.

"Then I'll help you any way I can that doesn't betray my own people in some manner," Jon said flatly. "V'Las has attacked my people in your name. Has killed my people in order to create this problem that will allow him to destroy you and any hope you may have of finding that which you seek. He has to pay. Has to be stopped."

"What says that you have no desire to claim what we seek for yourselves?" T'Pau challenged.

"What use would it be to me?" Jon replied easily. "I know only a few Vulcans, and like and respect only two. I honestly detest all things Vulcan outside those two, mostly because of V'Las. Should you succeed then perhaps Vulcan may become something I could like. Perhaps her people will become people I could like, respect, and become colleagues with. I don't know," he shrugged. "But it's worth it to me to find out."

Syrran regarded Jon for some time before nodding.

"He who Wrote trusts in him," he announced suddenly. "As do I. Very well, Jonathon Archer, we will see what we see. But we cannot retire from the Forge without attaining that which we have so long sought after. Especially if your information is correct and V'Las plans to bombard the area. We must protect the Kir'Shara from him. It must be returned to the people of Vulcan. It is their birthright."

"I will not leave him," T'Pau said simply. Jon looked at them, considering his next move. He could stun T'Pau and simply haul her away. He had every right to do so considering that his information from the Vulcan government was that she was guilty of bombing the embassy.

Doing that would alienate him from this Syrran, however, something that might make relations difficult for him and Earth later on. On the other hand, assisting them would hopefully gain him their confidence. If Syrran became a force within the new government because of his actions here, then his looking favorably upon Archer might bode well for Earth, and for Earth/Vulcan relations. It was a risk, but just being here in the Forge was a risk.

"Very well," he nodded. "We'll make it our mission to assist you with your quest. I ask that once that quest is ended that you allow me to get the two of you to safety."

"If V'Las is not stopped, there will be no such place," Syrran replied.

"The husband of my daughter is a warrior of great renown," T'Les spoke up at that. "He can provide you safety even from V'Las. Archer speaks truly." Syrran considered that.

"A Vulcan who is a great warrior?" T'Pau looked skeptical. "Surely we know his name?"

"My daughter's mate is not Vulcan," T'Les admitted. "He is human. At least somewhat," she added with a glance toward Jason Hunter. The commando's face was a mask.

"Fascinating," Syrran murmured. "Very well," he said again. "We accept. And yes, when our duty to Vulcan is done, being somewhere safe would be. . .agreeable." He looked toward the entrance. The sound of the storm raging was growing still louder within the cave.

"This will be a severe storm and will last some time," he spoke finally. "We should rest and take water while we can. Our objective is a good march from here and we will need to hurry once the storm lets up."

With that he and T'Pau settled in against the wall with T'Les. Hunter looked at Jon, who shrugged and made himself comfortable on the cave floor as well. Hunter posted a new guard and then took a break himself.

Outside them the storm howled as it grew ever stronger.

STE

"They're definitely getting ready to go," Julio said.

"Agreed," Kron nodded. "They will soon be prepared to depart, my Lord."

"I believe they will wait for _Enterprise_ to break orbit and depart," T'Pol said. "They will wish to avoid being seen depart in force. V'Las likely believes that his plans are still known only to him."

"That is likely," Soval agreed, "but not assured. Remember that I have been in contact with a number of Captains. They may or may not have reported that contact to V'Las or at least to their superiors."

"Any luck on that front?" Trip asked.

"No," Soval shook his head. "They will not listen to me because I have been declared a traitor. V'Las has managed to nullify me with that charge, unsubstantiated or no."

"Well, that's about all on that front then," Trip sighed, standing. "Notify _Charon_ , Mister Givens. Have them join us here and engage ECM to stay hidden. Then get me Kov on the line if you will."

"Sir," Givens nodded and moved to obey.

"Kron, I assume we're still green?" Trip asked.

"We are, my Lord," the Klingon nodded.

"Let's got to Charlie-One, get everyone fed and rested, see to any needed maintenance. We'll need to go to Alpha-Three when the Vulcans leave."

"Aye, sir," Kron nodded and similarly moved to obey.

"Dru'hak, you have the bridge and the ship. Call me if anything happens. I need to talk to Kov and then have a word with Tala."

"My Lord," came the nod. Trip turned to Soval.

"Your usefulness is at an end, Soval," he said flatly and was inordinately pleased to see the ripple of concern that passed across the Vulcan's face.

"I'll call Kov, who should be getting into space soon and arrange for him to take you on. You'll be safe on his vessel."

"I may yet be of assistance," Soval spoke evenly, no sign of his momentary spike of concern.

"I can't see how," Trip shook his head. "No one listens to you anymore. You're just in the way, and I don't like you. Having you around makes my teeth hurt." With that he headed for his ready room, pursued by his wife.

Soval found himself with no one to speak to and so left for the quarters that had been assigned him.

STE

"Father, it is time to go," Kov ordered gently. Kuvak looked at his son.

"Then go, and take the family with you, my son," he said evenly. "My place is here."

"You can do no more good here," Kov shook his head. "You will come with me. Should Vulcan survive this, she will need you." Kuvak was about to object when he felt the ship move.

"You have mislead me," he objected mildly.

"I have protected you," Kov replied. "You and all my family. You will be safe with me," he said confidently.

"If war comes with Andoria do not think you will be safe from them," Kuvak said.

"No war will come between Andoria and Vulcan," Kov said with certainty. "Trip will stop it. But to do so he will likely destroy many Vulcan vessels. That will weaken the planet and leave the Romulans in a position to attack."

"What do you know of Romulans?" Kuvak actually frowned.

"I know a great deal about a great many things, father," Kov shrugged simply. "Including that it is better for you to be with me than on the ground. You and the rest of our family will be safe here. We will probably head-"

"Sir, Lord Grim for you," the bridge broke into their talk. Kov hit the I/C.

"On my way." He looked at his father. "Would you like to accompany me? You can hear whatever Trip is about to do."

"Fascinating," Kuvak shook his own head. He had completely underestimated his emotional son. He followed to the bridge and then into Kov's small office where Trip Tucker's face was already on the screen.

"Kov, you're gettin' clear, right?" the man asked.

"On our way out now," Kov nodded. "I have my family with me."

"Good deal," Trip nodded in approval. "Got one more for ya," he grinned. "You don't care, I need you to take Soval outta my hair. We'll have to go soon, whenever the Vulcan fleet takes out. Just as soon not have him around. Think he gives me hayfever."

"Soval should be able to help you with stopping the fleet," Kuvak pointed out.

"He hasn't so far, sir," Trip replied in Vulcan. "No one wants to listen to him because he's been declared a traitor."

Kuvak nodded absently at that. He had not counted on so many of the fleet's officers being so fanatically loyal to V'Las. This entire situation had gotten completely out of hand in so short a time that it had taken them all by surprise. If Vulcan was to have any future, then V'Las had to be stopped. Someone had to act.

"Take me with you," he said simply. Kov looked startled and Trip did as well.

"Father," Kov began but Kuvak stilled him with a raised hand.

"I am not a declared traitor, Captain Tucker," Kuvak pointed out. "More than that I am a member of the High Council. The official ruling body of Vulcan. While V'Las has seized a great deal of power for himself, it is possible that at least some of the Captains will listen to me. Listen and recognize my authority as well."

The old Vulcan waited as Trip clearly considered the idea. Finally he looked at Kov.

"Your call, Kov," he said finally. "I'll back whatever decision you make. We'll wait for you here unless the fleet takes off. That happens we'll have to go with 'em I guess."

"We should be there in less than half-an-hour," Kov replied. "See you then." He killed the signal and looked at his father.

"Despite the strength of _Reaper_ and _Charon_ , they still may suffer damage. There is a risk to you, slight though it may be."

"I fail to see how two ships can hope to stop our fleet, Kov," Kuvak was skeptical.

"You have yet to see the ships," Kov smiled slightly. "Trip and I built them to stand up to anything. That included Vulcan ships, Andorians, Romulans, and most especially the Xindi."

"There is over half our fleet assembled in orbit, Kov," his father pointed out.

"I know," Kov nodded sadly. "I know."

He and his father made the remainder of the journey to Trip in silence.


	14. Chapter 14

_No claim of ownership intended or implied. Writing for fun and entertainment purposes only. No need to be aggressive or illogical about this simple story. Thank you._

Chapter Fourteen

Kuvak stood in front of Trip, T'Pol, Kov and Soval.

"It may be that they will listen to me," he said again. "It is worth the risk. V'Las has created a shadow over Vulcan, Captain Tucker. We must remove that shadow and restore our people before an even greater shadow falls across our world and our people."

"The Romulans," Trip nodded and Kuvak's eyebrow rose as he turned to Soval.

"They have deduced these things on their own," he said evenly. "They are exceedingly intelligent."

"Then you know I speak the truth," Kuvak said simply. Trip looked at T'Pol and Soval almost frowned as it was clear the two of them were sharing some kind of mental connection. T'Pol nodded once and Trip turned to Kov.

"Still your call," Trip said simply. He looked at Kuvak.

"If Kov is okay with it, you're welcome to come aboard, Minister. But know this. I will not allow the Vulcan fleet to attack Andoria and begin a war that might destroy the whole quadrant. We live here too. The threat of the Romulans is a threat we all have to worry about."

Kuvak nodded his acceptance without a verbal reply. As Kov's ship had approached this massive vessel, Kuvak had finally understood his son's confidence that two such ships might indeed stand against half the Vulcan fleet.

Kov looked at his father for a moment then turned to look at Trip. This human, or not, who was the best friend that Kov had ever had. More than a colleague, more than an acquaintance, more like a brother than anything.

"It must be his decision and yours," Kov said finally. "I cannot answer for this. He is correct in that his position on the council may well convince at least some of the commanders to hold. I know you will do all you can to ensure his safety."

"Absolutely," Trip promised and turned to the waiting Minister.

"Welcome aboard, Minister. Soval, the quarters next to yours should be empty. Would you show the minister there please?"

"This way," Soval said. Kuvak turned to Kov and raised the ta'al.

"Live long, my son, and prosper," he said evenly. "Know that I am deeply gratified by your success and your choice of. . .friends."

"Peace and long life father," Kov returned the gesture. "It is most agreeable to have your regard."

With that Kuvak departed with Soval.

"I must go," Kov sighed. "My ship contains my family and several of my father's most trusted subordinates. I must ensure their safety."

"Will you be able to do that with a freighter?" T'Pol asked, concerned.

"It's not exactly a freighter," Kov smiled slightly. "It just looks like one. Yes, we'll be safe enough. I plan to head for Earth," he told Trip. "We'll certainly be safe once we've crossed the rivers," he added cryptically.

"That is true," Trip nodded slowly. "Be safe, Kov." He placed a hand on his friend's shoulder for a firm grasp then let the hand fall away. "And thank you, my friend."

"Farewell, Charles," Kov said formally. "Live long, Commander T'Pol, and be. . .happy," Kov smiled.

"Peace to you, Kov, and a long and. . .happy. . .life," T'Pol agreed.

Trip waited at the airlock until _Argonaut_ was uncoupled and moving. T'Pol stayed with him. As Kov's vessel moved away, she looked at Trip.

"I sense a great sadness in you, husband," she said softly.

"Just resignation," he shook his head. "I never imagined havin' to use my ships against Vulcan," he told her. "There was always the chance it could happen of course, if someone like V'Las tried to force Earth into subjugation. But like this?" He shook his head.

"I'd always thought I'd just make sure that Earth was safe, stop the slave trade, kill pirates, maybe some Romulans. Maybe even take this thing and go shooting off into the unknown, you know," he grinned.

"We cannot always choose our path, husband," T'Pol placed a hand on his shoulder. "I am greatly pleased to share your path, wherever it may lead." He covered her hand with his own.

"I am equally pleased by your presence, _aduna_ ," he smiled. "We should go to the bridge I suppose. It may well be show time, soon."

"What did Kov mean when he spoke of. . .'crossing the rivers', I think was the term?"

"There are three other ships just like this one protecting Earth right now," Trip told her. "They are actually sister ships of the _Acheron_. _Styx_ , _Phlegethon_ , and _Lethe_. All of them named for the Rivers of Hades. From Greek mythology," he explained. " _Charon_ , the ship that will be helping us, is named for the Ferryman of the river Styx. His job was to ferry the dead across the river into Hades."

"Very dark names, _adun_ ," T'Pol said after a minute of consideration. "I can understand why, considering your state of mind when you designed them."

"Yeah, but it kinda sucks, now," Trip shrugged. "Bad luck to rename a ship, though," he added. "So we're stuck with 'em,"

"How many of these vessels are there?" T'Pol asked.

"Originally we planned for eight, but stopped with six. There are five remaining after the loss of _Acheron_. We're building some smaller ships now. Shouldn't need these bruisers except for times like now, or when the Romulans come."

"What about the name of this ship?" she asked.

"That was almost a joke, but it stuck," Trip admitted. "It's named after me, or at least after a nickname. Or a title I guess, the way it's used now," he sighed.

"Lord Grim?" T'Pol's Eyebrow of Amused Tolerance rose.

"Grim Reaper," Trip nodded sadly. "I really didn't mean it to be that way. I used it one night in a Klingon bar and brothel and it sorta. . .stuck. The Grim Reaper is a mythical figure in Earth culture. Death incarnate, so to speak."

"Why were you in a Klingon brothel?" T'Pol's Eyebrow of Extreme Annoyance replaced Amused Tolerance almost instantaneously.

"Out of all that, you got 'Klingon Brothel' and nothin' else?" Trip asked, amused.

"I can see no reason for you to be in such a place," T'Pol sniffed, her Eyebrow of Pointed Reminder now joining Extreme Annoyance. "Especially in the future."

"I was there recruiting Dru'hak and his men," Trip chuckled. "It's a place where unattached warriors congregate. Mercenaries waiting for the next job offer. I also hired Tragon-Das there. The bar and brothel part is just sort of. . .extra. It takes a lot of people to go into the Expanse after a planet killing weapon and I needed soldiers. These ships aren't easy to crew, even with good pay and bennies."

"I am curious about how you managed to finance them," she said after a minute.

"Sold my soul to the devil," Trip winked.

"Ah, the tale of Webster," T'Pol nodded. It was the Eyebrow of Satisfied Acceptance now, Trip was relieved to see, then immediately wondered how he knew that to start with.

"It's a joke, T'Pol," Trip assured her. "But it's good to see you remembered."

"I remember everything you say, Trip," T'Pol admitted. "I. . .I have always known, I think, that you were. . .that you _might be_ my _ashaya_ ," her voice lowered. "I didn't understand, especially with your being human. But perhaps because I am, _may be_ , half-Romulan, it makes a difference."

"It doesn't matter what you are," Trip told her flatly. "And there's something you should know, too. My symbiot has created a mental link between us. I don't know how he did that, but he did mention there was already a tendril of connection between us. He could feel it when I first learned about your forced marriage."

"How _did_ you learn of that?" T'Pol asked.

"I have a lot of eyes and ears now," Trip shrugged. "Everyone wants to be on Lord Grim's good side."

"It is the safest place to be," T'Pol pointed out.

"Yeah, I guess," he sighed in resignation. "C'mon and lets go see what's happening."

STE

"I can't put V'Las off much longer, Captain Hernandez. We can maybe squeak out another two trips with the pods and that's about it." Reed was in Archer's ready room, though he was starting to think of it as his considering the amount of time he spent here.

"Try and keep a low profile, Commander," Erica Hernandez replied. "I'll be speaking to Ambassador Ross in a few minutes. Has he said anything to you about abandoning the embassy?"

"No ma'am, but I haven't had the opportunity to speak directly to him. I do know that he's reluctant to abandon his post, especially with the investigation into the bombing still ongoing. I can't fault or blame him for that, either."

"Nor can I," Erica nodded grimly. "We can be there in fifteen minutes if you need us, but that's a long time in battle. I don't have to tell you that."

"No ma'am," Reed nodded. "But I'm reluctant to run off and leave the Ambassador. If the Vulcans are correct about the coming battle, then our people may need to go. I would imagine not having them on planet would be relief to Minister V'Las to be honest." He hoped he wasn't laying it on too thick. He was sure that their communications were being monitored.

"I would say that's true," Hernandez was puzzled but suddenly realized that Reed was playing to another audience. She nodded slowly, signifying that she really did understand.

"Well, stay in touch, Commander," she said suddenly. "Remember your orders. Hernandez out." The screen went blank.

"I'm not paid well enough for this," Reed muttered.

"Commander, you may want to come to the bridge," Travis called over the I/C.

"Now what."

STE

"Captain, we may have to depart at any minute, so just be ready. We'll have to intercept them somewhere in the open between Vulcan and Andoria."

Garrison Meadows nodded slowly at Trip's instruction.

"Understood."

"I've got one more card to play before we start shooting and we can always take a few shots without responding in kind. In fact that might convince at least some of them to stand down," Trip mused.

"We'll await your order to return fire unless we begin to take damage. Is that acceptable?" Meadows asked.

"And a good plan," Trip nodded at once. "I like it."

"Has anyone informed the Andorians?" Meadows asked and Trip froze.

"Ah, I dunno," Trip admitted. "I guess I better find that out, hadn't I?"

"It might be advisable, sir," Meadows almost smiled.

"Thanks, Captain," Trip smiled and Meadows merely nodded before the screen went blank.

"Julio, would you please see if you can call Shran for me?" Trip said easily. "It might be a good idea to talk to him."

"See what I can do sir," Julio nodded.

"My Lord, there is movement in the Vulcan Fleet," Kron's voice was a bit urgent. "A squadron of lighter combatants just went to warp, sir."

"Scouts," Dru'hak said quietly.

"Concur," T'Pol nodded. "Scans indicate a standard six ship unit, likely one light cruiser and five scout ships."

"Julio alert _Charon_ to stand by for movement," Trip sighed. "And now I _really_ need to talk to Shran." How had he overlooked something so important as talking to the Andorians about this?

 _You cannot think of everything, adun_ , he heard and nodded, looking at his wife.

 _Thank you_ , he replied and felt a warm feeling engulf him suddenly.

 _Certainly._

He smiled gently as he waited for whatever was going to happen.

STE

"The storm has gotten worse!" T'Les had to shout even though she was close to Archer. "This is perhaps the worst I have seen, certainly in a very long time."

"We must strengthen the entrance!" Syrran shouted. He and T'Pau moved that way. Jon shouted for them to come back and allow Hunter and his people to do it, but the Vulcans didn't hear him over the sound of the storm.

"Get them back away from the entrance!" he told T'Les. When she just looked at him, Jon moved forward himself, intending to remove the two of them from danger. He couldn't afford to let them come to harm.

Just as he reached Syrran part of the wall of rocks they had erected in the entrance gave way to the wind and magnetic energy. A bolt of blue fire snapped through the opening and struck the Vulcan male in the chest, throwing him across the cave. Jon, being slightly behind, went with him, propelled by the force of the strike.

Jon landed with the older man slightly atop him, winded by the fall. He struggled to get up, to move the badly injured Vulcan and assess his injuries, but suddenly Syrran seized his head in both hands in a grip of iron. Jon struggled instinctively, trying to get away, but the Vulcan's grip was like a vise.

"Thou hast the spirit of an honorable man, Jonathon Archer," Syrran gasped. "I appoint thee _en'ahr'at_ of T'Pau, and commit to you that which is most precious to Vulcan. _**Remember**_." The last word was almost a hiss.

Jon's head felt like it was about to explode. He would have screamed in pain except that he seemed to be paralyzed somehow. What the hell was this Vulcan doing to him, anyway?

Suddenly visions of Vulcan began to slam into his consciousness. Scenes of horrible combat, crazed and violent Vulcans rending each other in combat that was no less terrible than the Genetics war had been on Earth. Possibly worse, even.

Nuclear fire blasting across the planet, killing millions, reforming the landscape, changing the atmosphere, the people.

Then there was a single Vulcan. Through his eyes Jon watched as Vulcans were taught to use logic and reason to conquer themselves rather than each other, to bring order out of the chaos they had created because of their emotional and violent behavior.

There was another, one Jon recognized but didn't. Refusing to listen, refusing to 'bow'. More fighting. More ruin. Then a departure. A threat.

Writing. Much working to develop and teach the way of logic and reason to willing Vulcans who were weary of war and strife. Adulation that was taught to become restrained respect less it lead to something unpleasant.

He saw a young man rummaging through the remains of what appeared to have been a temple. Through his eyes Jon saw what he somehow knew to be a katric arc, something that was sacred to Vulcan at one time. Even as he looked at it, a consciousness flowed from the arc and into Jon/Syrran/Surak, filling him with information and visions.

Jon endured another round of enforced visions, playing over much of the same ground as Surak 'explained' to Syrran who and what he was. A deep desire to find that which was lost. Disappointment in what had become of Vulcan since his departure. Urgent need to prevent that which had occurred before. All of these things hit Jon together.

And all of this occurred in the space of a few seconds, though for Jonathon Archer it was more like years. Years of watching the lives of two other beings play out through their eyes. There was pain, distant now but still there, merely subdued by the urgent need to ensure the survival of the information contained in that essence. To preserve the essence itself. No. Matter. What.

" _ **Remember**_."

STE

"What's going on Travis?" Reed asked as he stepped onto the bridge.

"Small group of Vulcan ships just went to warp, sir," Evans reported from the science station. "I make it six," he looked at Travis and Ensign Parker who was manning the weapons station.

"Concur," Parker nodded and Travis nodded his agreement.

"Any coms we can pick up on?" Reed asked Hoshi.

"Nothing we can make out," she shook her head. "There is traffic, but it's not directed to anywhere specific. I have gotten a few hits of tight beam emanations, but they're impossible to pin down."

"Right," Reed sighed. "Very well. Good work. We'll maintain our watch, but this isn't really our concern."

 _Yet_ , he didn't add.

STE

"Major, do you and your men require rest?" Skon asked solicitously. Hayes looked at him gratefully and nodded.

"If it won't slow you down, we'd be grateful," he admitted.

"We will rest for half-an-hour," he announced to the Vulcan commandos. "Take water and rest." With that he departed, moving to the head of the small contingent.

"Why are we-" Bailey started by Hayes cut him off with a hand gesture and warning glance.

"Be grateful they're taking it easy on us," he said slightly too loud. He noted the Vulcans nearby raise eyebrows at one another and felt a surge of satisfaction. _Let them think we're weak_ , he smirked mentally. _Works for us._

"If it wasn't for us they'd still be moving," he went on, but winked at his people to show them he was just playing to the Vulcans. "Hydrate and rest. We're moving again in thirty."

The team was smart. Despite what Starfleet might think, MACOs were not stupid, selected as much for their intelligence as their physical prowess or their other skills.

All of them took on the look of haggard, helpless humans. Tired, weak, suffering from the heat. In reality, they were still able to go. Yes, they were tired, but had miles still left in them before they'd have to rest. Beneath their tactical gear each wore a small cooling unit that served to keep them from being overcome by the heat. It didn't keep them cool by any stretch, but it made the heat manageable, which was all they required.

Hayes and his group were buying time for Archer as well as keeping an eye on the Vulcans. The only thing that worried Hayes was that he had no way to contact the Commodore or the Ambassador, and thus had no way of knowing what was happening outside the Forge.

Like if perhaps there was another Vulcan unit out here somewhere, and Skon was just keeping _Hayes_ occupied and under observation.

He didn't have to fake the look of resignation. There was nothing he could do but follow orders and keep himself and his people alive. Considering that if they disappeared out here no one would ever be able to find them didn't make that an easy, or sure, task.

He flashed hand signals to his people reminding them to be aware and observant, always in pairs, one watching, one doing whatever. All replied the same way, making casual motions that no one would pay attention to.

They were only human, after all.

STE

"-ff him!" Jon heard Hunter's voice dimly. "Now!"

"Do not harm Syrran!" T'Les shouted over the increased sound of the fury of the storm. Three of Hunter's team were working quickly to reseal the cave, their strength making it possible where nothing else would.

"Commodore are you injured?" Hunter asked as he knelt over Jon.

"I. . .I don't think so," Jon replied. "I don't really know. I. . .something. . .I don't know," he sighed.

"Just take a minute and assess, sir," Hunter advised. "Cox is looking Syrran over and then he'll check you."

"I think I'm fine, Mister Hunter, really," Jon told him. "Just a little shook up by the blow, I guess. Caught me by surprise."

"What were you doing?" Hunter asked.

"I was trying to get the two of them away from the entrance before something just like that happened," Jon admitted. "Little late."

"Sir, this man's gone," Cox reported evenly. "There's nothing."

"Surak's katra!" T'Les exclaimed. T'Pau was already kneeling at Syrran's side, and placed her hand to his head, closing her eyes.

"What's going on?" Hunter asked.

"She must retrieve Surak's katra from Syrran while there is still time," T'Les informed him. "Without it, we have lost." T'Pau's head shot up even as T'Les spoke.

"His katra is gone," T'Pau reported. "Syrran's _and_ Surak's," she looked at Jon. "What have you done?"

"I didn't do anything," Jon told her. "He grabbed me and. . .what's an _en'ahr'at_?" T'Pau's face actually paled slightly at that.

"Why?" T'Les demanded.

"Syrran," Jon pointed to the body. "He grabbed my head and told me he had decided I was an honorable man and was appointing me as _en'ahr'at_ to T'Pau," he looked at the young Vulcan. "Then he said 'Remember', and images started flashing through my head. Some of them pretty horrible," he looked at T'les. "I see now why you practice your logic," he admitted. "That was pretty bad."

"You bear the _katra_ of Surak?" T'Les raised an eyebrow. "How is this possible?"

"I don't know," Jon shrugged. "I don't know how he did it, or why he did it to me, either. And what is an _en'ahr'at_? And how do I know how. . .no," he face paled. "No way, absolutely not!" Jon was getting to his feet, face flushed.

"Commodore?" Hunter sounded confused while T'Les merely raised an amused eyebrow. A gesture that allowed Jon to see some of T'Pol in her mother.

"You hate us so much, Commodore?" she asked.

"I _despise_ you!" Jon almost spat out. "All of you except Kov and T'Pol. You've done _nothing_ to us but hold us back and keep us down since we met. We've never done a thing to your people. Admired and looked up to you, perhaps. Yet your kind have bullied us and pushed us and even _killed us!"_

"I do not understand," T'Pau spoke, clearly still slightly rattled by the death of her mentor. "You said you knew that I had no part in the bombing of your embassy."

"It wasn't you, it was V'Las," Jon nodded. "I know it was. Can prove it even, so long as I can keep you safe so he can't produce you as a conveniently dead criminal."

"I am no criminal," T'Pau said evenly.

"I know that, you know that, a few others know that," Jon nodded. "But if V'Las is able to point to you, to him," he indicated Syrran, "and to any others there may be, all dead, and proclaim that you are guilty and he has seen to your demise, who would question it? Who would defend you?"

"You, apparently," T'Pau raised an eyebrow. "What else did Syrran say?"

"He told me. . .," he paused, thinking. "He told me I had the spirit of an honorable man, that he appointed me _en'ahr'at_ to T'Pau, and that he commit to me 'that which was most precious to Vulcan'," he managed to recall. "The last thing I heard was the word 'remember', and then the flashes started. Flashbacks I guess. It was like I was looking through someone else's eyes."

"You were," T'Les nodded. "Syrran has passed his katra to you as well as that of Surak," she sighed. "This is unexpected."

"It is intolerable!" T'Pau lunged forward only to be floored by a punch from Hunter. He pulled it but it still stunned her. She looked up at him in surprise.

" _Don't_ , do that again," he stressed. "You are important to the Commodore, but _he_ is important to Lord Grim. He wins." With that he leaned down to offer her his hand. Her eyes narrowed and Hunter sighed, knowing he was about to have to hurt this girl.

"Child," Archer's voice sounded off. Odd. "Do not allow your emotions to rule. Consider what he who was not your father would have wanted for you. What he has done for you. This vessel contains a human man who has honor above many of our own kind. I have seen his heart, into his soul. He means you no harm."

"Yes, he harbors hatred for our kind, but many of our own are no different. Allow him to take my place, that you may show him that his hatred is misplaced. He does not need to hate us all because of the actions of a few. In return he can and will teach you much about dealing with others. Things I cannot. Could not. Together the two of you will exemplify Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations."

"Jonathon Archer will protect you, T'Pau, and he will need you to protect him. Together you will be strong. Apart, you will fall. Remember me in this." Suddenly Jon sagged on his legs and only T'Les' quick action saved him from hitting the floor. She lowered him gently to the ground, pulling the same blanket he had used to cover her early and bundling it beneath his head.

"What the hell?" he asked, dazed.

"Syrran has spoken through you," it was T'Pau who answered, her voice tight and somewhat shaken. "He. . .I am now your ward, Jonathon Archer of Earth," she said softly. "He that I have followed all my life has said that I must now follow you. That we have much to learn from one another. That we need one another."

"I don't need any damn Vulcan," Jon hissed.

"So Syrran said you would say," T'Les noted kindly. Jon looked at Hunter, who nodded.

"Can't explain it, but you said it," the commando told him. "Somebody said it anyway, using your voice."

"I've. . .I've got a Vulcan _in my head_?" Jon looked aghast.

"Two of them," T'Pau knelt beside him. "One the Father of Modern Vulcan, the other one of the finest men I have ever known. Please honor him, Jonathon Archer, as he has honored you."

Jon caught a sharp retort before it could leave his mouth, instead looking to T'Les.

"It is indeed an honor," she admitted. "One I daresay no human has ever received. You must be careful, however," she warned. "Your physical strength is not as great as ours and you lack the meditative training to deal effectively with the essences of two other beings. You will need to be careful." She looked to Hunter.

"We will have to monitor his health closely, Mister Hunter."

"We will," Hunter nodded. "How do we get them out?"

"Only the priests of Gol can perform such a feat," T'Les admitted. "While T'Pau or I could bear their katras, we cannot take them from him. Not without great risk to Archer as well as the others."

"We will find the Kir'Shara before we venture to Gol," Archer/Surak/Syrran said to them. His voice was calm now.

"This one is stronger than you know, T'Les of Vulcan. While he will suffer to carry our burden it will not be damaging to him so long as care is taken." He looked at Hunter, and the commando noted that Archer's eyes were. . .off.

"You are not human," Archer/Surak/Syrran spoke firmly. Hunter's eyes widened a bit but he nodded.

"Not anymore," he admitted. "Not for a long time," he added.

"A man of war you are, and have ever been," Archer affirmed. "Archer has faith in the Lord you serve. He has faith in you _because_ of he you serve, Jason Hunter. Do not fail him. Do not fail us. The girl must live," he rested a hand on T'Pau's shoulder and she barely flinched. "Archer must live. We must continue to exist but only so long as it takes to find that which we seek. Our fate beyond that is immaterial. Nor should it factor into your decision making. You will see to it that Archer and T'Pau live and that the Kir'Shara is found. It must be protected along with them. The cost cannot matter because the price of failure is terrible. Do you understand?"

"No," Hunter admitted. "I don't. But. . .I've seen some strange things in my life. Some of them only lately. So long as following you does not violate Lord Grim's instructions, does not endanger Archer, then I will do as you bid."

"Then we must go," Archer began to rise. "The storm dies away, and time slips us by. We have not so far to go as we once did."

Hunter did note that the sound of the storm had fallen off during the drama.

"Cox, you're with the Commodore from here on," he ordered the medic. He nodded and moved to where Archer was rising.

"Jax, Nice, take the point. Commodore, can you tell us which way we need to travel."

"We are looking for the ruins of an ancient temple," T'Les answered for him. "I can get us there. Once we arrive, it will be up to the Commodore."

"I will serve as a guide," T'Pau offered.

"No ma'am, you won't," Hunter said at once. "You and the Commodore are the primaries. You will stay with the group, preferably with the Commodore himself." He looked at T'Les.

"Yes, I can go with them," she nodded. "I am now expendable," she added.

"No life is expendable, T'Les," T'Pau objected.

"Incorrect, ma'am," Hunter took that one. "We all became expendable the moment Commodore Archer gave his orders. You and he must survive. If the rest of us have to suffer or even perish to make that happen, then we will." He turned back to T'Les.

"Your courage honors you," he told her.

"I live to serve," she bowed slightly. "We should go."

"Jax, Nice, the lady will be the guide. Watch over her." Hunter's voice was calm.

"Roger that," Jax nodded. "Let's be on our way ma'am."

Five minutes later the group was on it's way.


	15. Chapter 15

_As always, no rights infringement of any kind is intended. I own no part of Startrek;Enterprise, because if I did it would still be on the air. :)_

Chapter Fifteen

"Hello, Pinkskin Tucker," Shran was subdued. "It is good to see you, but I am very busy at the moment, so make it quick."

"Got problems?" Trip asked neutrally.

"Nothing we can't handle," Shran replied tightly.

"So you know, I guess, that V'Las has ordered the Vulcan Fleet to attack you," Trip sighed.

"We do," Shran said flatly. "How do you know?"

"Sitting over Vulcan right now," Trip admitted. "Things are a mess, Shran. You remember the Romulans, right?"

"Tucker, what does that have to do with Vulcan attacking my world?" Shran demanded.

"Well, seems V'Las is in the pay of the Romulans," Trip said easily. "He's going to start a war to weaken Vulcan, and Andoria, then the Rommies will move in and scoop both of you up. With the two strongest powers in the quadrant down, they can roll Earth and the rest up at their covenience."

"How do you know this?" Shran demanded. T'Pol stepped into view and Shran recognized her at once.

"T'Pol," he nodded respectfully. She had helped him help his people, and Shran didn't forget things like that.

"Meet the wife, Shran," Trip said.

"You're kidding," Shran's antennae went wild.

"I do not kid," T'Pol answered that one. "We know of this because Ambassador Soval has uncovered V'Las' treachery. For that he has been labeled a traitor."

"Soval?" Shran looked incredulous. "What _idiot_ would believe that? I don't like Soval but he's nothing if not loyal to his people."

"Agreed," T'Pol nodded. "However you asked how we knew."

"So, what, Tucker?" Shran demanded. "Your wife is a Vulcan so you're siding with them?" Trip's laugh caught the Andorian off guard.

"I have no intention of siding with Vulcan in anything, Shran," he said flatly. "For the way they've treated my wife I honestly couldn't care less if you crushed them."

"Then what?" Shran demanded again.

"I have no intention of allowing them to attack you, either," Trip told him. "There isn't going to be a war between Vulcan and Andoria, Shran. If we allow it, then the Romulans destroy or rule us all. We can't allow it to happen."

"And you think you're going to stop the Vulcans all by yourself, is that it?" Shran asked, just short of derisively.

"That's the plan," Trip nodded. "You remember my old ship, don't ya?"

"Yes," Shran was instantly on guard. "Don't tell me you have another one!"

"Oh I have several," Trip smiled. "So when I say that I intend to stop the Vulcans you might give me the benefit of the doubt."

"I might," Shran said uneasily. "But I am not in command of the Imperial Fleet, Pinkskin. There is only so much I can do."

"Tell me where you plan to meet them," Trip said. "I'll intercept them short of that point. If for some reason my plan doesn't work, then you're still in a position to protect yourselves. They'll be weaker if nothing else," he grinned.

"I don't know that I can give you that information, Tucker," Shran was less hostile now. "It's not that I don't trust you, because oddly enough I do. But. . .it might look bad. I might be considered a traitor."

"Well, let me throw some guesses at you, then," Trip offered. "Would you say that the Vulcan side of the Gronti Nebula might be a good place to mount a defense?"

"Our side would be a better place, actually," Shran said, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Nice spot for an ambush, if you knew that your enemies were coming."

"There are six Vulcan ships headed your direction right now, Shran. Scouts. Does that do anything to help establish my credibility?"

"I told you Tucker, I don't _need_ you to establish your credibility," Shran replied. "But I am _not_ in command. Now if I _were_ in command," Shran added, "I would mass my ships just inside torpedo range of my side of the nebula. This is just a theoretical exercise of course," he added.

"Of course," Trip nodded. "Then we'll be on this side. Please try and keep your forces from interfering, if you can. If we allow this war to happen, Shran, then we lose everything. The Romulans will destroy us all."

"I have no desire to face the Romulans," Shran admitted. "There are too many of them for us to face alone. They would conquer my people. My world."

"And mine," Trip nodded. "That's why we have to prevent this. Without you and Vulcan to fight against them, we're all lost."

"I agree, Tucker, and I will do all I can, but. . .I cannot promise you anything." Shran's voice rang with sincerity.

"I'm not looking for a promise, Shran, just the effort," Trip promised. "Let us try before you do something you can't take back."

"I will do all I can," Shran promised again. "I won't be there to beam you out at the last second this time, Tucker," he added with a smile. "Do try and keep your ship safe this time."

"Do my best," Trip nodded. "Stay safe my friend."

"And you, friend Pinkskin. And you." The screen went dark.

"How far to the nebula?" Trip asked.

"Twenty-four hours at warp 7," T'Pol replied at once. "At warp 6, which is more likely, it is roughly six hours longer."

"Well, all we can do is wait, then," he sighed.

"Uh, milord?" Julio said suddenly.

"Yeah?"

"Vulcans are going to warp, sir," Julio reported as T'Pol moved immediately to the sensor readout.

"Concur, sir," Tana'ran nodded from her station. "Looks like by squadron," she added.

"Notify _Charon_ to meet us this side of Gronti," Trip ordered. "And notify _Enterprise_ they're on their own, now. Jerry, prepare for warp, set course for the Gronti Nebula. Move people!"

People moved.

STE

"Understood," Reed nodded at Julio Givens image. "Good hunting."

"Thanks." The image disappeared. Reed looked around the bridge.

"It's going to get awfully lonely around here now," he warned. "Parker, issue side arms and have all security stand to. Maybe we won't need them, but let's not take the chance."

"Sir," Ensign Parker nodded and headed off to do just that.

Reed sat in the Captain's chair and once more decided that he wasn't sure he still wanted command. Of course, if he was commanding one of those massive battlecruisers that Trip had, well that might be different.

 _Battlecruiser_ , he played the word over his mind. Had a nice ring to it, it did. He wondered what Trip offered for something like that. Did he have an insurance plan? Some semblance of a retirement plan, perhaps?

He'd have to check.

STE

"Are you all right, Jonathon Archer?" T'Pau asked softly. She had placed her arm around his waist to help support him and held his left arm across her shoulders.

"I'm okay," he nodded, breathing a little heavier than normal. "How far away are we still?" he asked.

"At this pace, we should arrive before full dark," T'Pau told him. "As it grows darker travel might be less arduous," she supplied hopefully.

"Thanks," he smiled. "I don't think I'm going to keel over just yet," he promised. He looked at her. Under the dirt and grime of Vulcan she was wearing thanks to the storm she was actually pretty. Her youth shown through all that. He almost snorted at thought. He might be ten years older than she was, but he doubted it.

 _She's still a Vulcan_ , he reminded himself. _She can't be trusted_. She wasn't the criminal V'Las said she was, but that didn't make her his friend. Just the enemy of his enemy.

"I do not know why Syrran chose to burden you with me," she said suddenly. "I regret the burden placed upon you, Jonathon Archer. And I offer my apology for my act of aggression before. I admit that the realization that you somehow had the katra of Syrran, along with that of Surak, was alarming to me."

"I didn't know Vulcans could be alarmed," Jon semi-snorted.

"We can be," T'Pau assured him. "We can be scared, we can be angry, we can be anything you can be. We simply learn to master those emotions so that they do not master us. We have to take care that we do not regress to what we once were."

"I saw some of that," Jon nodded. "I have to admit, after seeing what and where you came from, your obsession with logic and emotional control makes sense. Maybe if your people were more open about why you do certain things it would remove some of the

prejudices against your people," he suggested.

"That is logical," T'Pau nodded. "It is natural to fear or hate that which is unknown to us."

"Humans are like that too," he nodded. "I suppose since we have about half the life-span your people do we feel like we can't spare the time to master our emotions like Vulcans do. And one thing we humans do better than almost anyone is judge everyone else by our standards. If we think it's a good idea, so should you. Know what I mean?"

"Indeed," she nodded. "You are not alone in that, Jonathon Archer. Vulcans have that same arrogance, as I'm sure you are all too well aware." Jon chuckled at that.

"You don't have to call me by my full name all the time you know," he told her suddenly. "Everyone calls me Jon."

"Mister Hunter calls you Commodore," T'Pau pointed out.

"Well, that's just a rank," he shrugged. "A title for my position in Starfleet. It's not a name."

"Perhaps I should call you Commodore," T'Pau ventured.

"You're not part of Starfleet, T'Pau," Jon smiled slightly. "No need for that. Besides, if you're supposed to be my ward, then we don't need something so formal between us. Do you feel uncomfortable calling me Jon?"

"I do not know," T'Pau admitted. "I have not done so. But you are the first human I have ever met."

"I am?" Jon was surprised. "I didn't realize that."

"I was raised along the edge of the Forge and the desert," T'Pau shrugged carefully so as not to dislodge his arm. "There has never been an opportunity to meet someone from your world. Or any other world, for that matter," she admitted.

"We'll have to change that, then," Jon told her. "Once we've got all this straightened out, we'll have to make sure you get to meet a few people from other places."

"We must face the possibility that we will not succeed in 'straightening things out', Jonathan Archer," T'Pau's voice was resigned despite her lack of emotion.

"Think positive," he winked at her. "We'll work it out, somehow."

"Even so, my future is somewhat in question," she pointed out. "I am accused of a heinous act. Such a thing will follow me."

"No it won't," he promised. "The crime was committed on Earth soil, and Earth knows you didn't do it. That's all that matters. You'll be fine."

"And if the Romulans come?" T'Pau asked. "What will become of me then?"

"You'll be with me," Jon replied at once, and then had to wonder why. "You'll go with me to Earth if you have to, or live with me aboard ship."

"And if the Romulans come to Earth?" she asked. He realized that for all her Vulcanness, T'Pau really did have the emotional maturity of a very young human adult, or teenager. She was afraid. For the first time in her short life (by Vulcan standards) her future was unsure.

"Then the Romulans are in for a very harsh surprise," he smiled tightly. "T'Les' son-in-law is something of a warrior king, or warlord, these days and his people will likely crush the Romulans before their attack gets off the ground. We'll be safe on earth, T'Pau, I promise you."

"I have much to learn if I am to live somewhere other than here," T'Pau spoke quietly. "This is all I know, father." Jon stumbled at that, looking at her.

"Father?" he asked.

"You are my _en'arh'at_ ," she nodded. "You now stand in the place of my father, Jonathon Archer. My guardian. Because I have no father, you have taken his place."

"That's a lot to take in," Jon said after a minute. "I didn't think about it like that."

"You do not have to do so," she told him shyly. "No one would blame you if you did not. Nor would any human be expected to take such care of a Vulcan. I did not mean to alarm you."

"I didn't say I wouldn't do it," Jon replied kindly. "I just said it was a lot to take in. Just met you a few hours ago. And in physical age I'm only a few years older than you, even if our maturity levels are different. If I saw you in a club, on Earth, I'd probably be hitting on you."

"You would strike me?" she looked at him wide-eyed.

"What? No! No," he shook his head quickly. "No, 'hitting on you' in that context means that I would be trying to ask you out. Dance with you, have a drink together, maybe dinner and a movie, that kind of thing."

"Are you referring to physical intimacy?" she asked, eyebrow raised.

"No, not specifically," Jon replied. "For some it might lead to that. It depends on a person's personal mores, I guess. For me, no. I'm not quite that easy."

"Easy?"

"Earth people come from many cultures in our past, T'Pau. For some, casual sexual encounters are the norm. They don't see anything wrong with it, they don't feel any shame over it and so feel free to practice it whenever they desire. Some are even using that physical intimacy as you call it to make themselves feel better, or to convince themselves they're attractive or desirable. Because they are quick to enter into physical relationships, they acquire the reputation of being 'easy'. As in easy to sleep with."

"So _easy_ is not an appellation one would want to have," T'Pau said, working through what she had been told.

"No, it's not. It's a bad reputation to have, especially for a woman. That kind of reputation will often follow her, even after she's stopped living that way. Shouldn't be any different that it is for a man, but things aren't always fair."

"So even now humans do not look at physical intimacy as something to be entered into lightly," she ventured. "We have always been told that your mating habits are much different from our own," her face tinged as she spoke, indicating her embarrassment.

"We don't usually call it 'mating habits'" Jon grinned. "We don't experience anything like the Vulcan _Pon Farr_. If a woman is healthy and of child bearing age, she can conceive a child during any encounter that doesn't include contraceptives. Even with them it's possible since sometimes contraceptives fail."

"That explains your population density," T'Pau noted drily.

"Pretty much," Jon laughed. "But this isn't a talk we need to be having since if I'm acting like your father you're forbidden to date until you're at least fifty," he laughed again.

"Date?" T'Pau sounded confused. "I do not understand."

"It's a social function where a boy and girl go out together, spend time together. Part of a courting ritual," he added.

"We do not have such things," she told him.

"I know. Your people use arranged marriages. We used to do that, long time ago. I guess a few people still do but I don't know of any personally."

"Earth once used such a custom?"

"Yes, mostly for what was once called 'noble' families. Royalty. Ruling families. We don't really see much of that now."

"I see there will be much to learn if we live on Earth," she mused.

"I don't think it will come to that," Jon told her. "We'll win. We may get beat up some, but we'll win. Your future will be here, with your own people."

"That would be agreeable, but seeing other worlds would also be agreeable."

"There's no reason you can't do both," Jon promised her. She wasn't so bad, he decided. He wasn't crazy about that 'father' thing, but he supposed it was accurate. She did have a lot to learn, but she'd also started out at a severe disadvantage. She was obviously intelligent. With a proper education she would be fine.

He'd make sure of that.

In front of him, Jason Hunter smiled.

STE

"I don't see how we can stay here much longer," Malcolm sighed. "We've exhausted almost all of our excuses."

"We're still looking at several hours of hauling," Travis pointed out. "I hate to call it that," he added.

"I know," Malcolm nodded. "It is what it is, Travis."

"Yes sir."

"Until and unless they call us, we'll stay quiet," Malcolm decided. "No more calling the embassy unless there's a legitimate emergency. We'll communicate with the pods only when they're leaving or on approach."

"Yes sir," Hoshi nodded.

"I don't know what else we can do," he admitted. "I want us to be here as long as we can, however. Commodore Archer or Major Hayes may need us."

STE

"Do we have a location on this girl, sir?" Hayes asked Skon.

"Roughly, yes," Skon spoke as if he'd rather be doing anything else. "But we cannot be precise with scanners. Hence our presence here."

"Yes sir,' Hayes nodded.

"Your men have held up well," Skon noted almost reluctantly.

"Thank you," Hayes nodded, then decided to pad just a little. "We know we're slowing you down, sir. We're doing our best."

"It is of no importance," Skon replied. "We will still arrive in plenty of time."

"Time?" Hayes asked. "Time for what?"

"We need to apprehend these subversive elements before they can strike again," Skon told him, and Hayes could tell it was something he'd come up with on the fly. He'd spoken out of turn.

"Hadn't even thought of that, sir," Hayes chose to say. "I figured this was their one shot."

"Hardly."

"We'll get 'em, sir," Hayes said. With that he slowed to allow his men to catch up.

"We're doing good, Mister Skon says," he told them, flashing hand signals to them. "We need to try and keep it up. He hasn't said anything but I know we're slowing them down." More hand signals. Each member of his squad acknowledged.

"And stay sharp. Mister Skon says they may hit us again."

 _I should have been an actor_ , Hayes thought. _At least I hope I should have been. If I'm not selling this we may be in a world of hurt before it's over_.

STE

"We are here," T'Les announced softly. Nice halted beside her while Jax scouted ahead a little further.

"Sir, Lady says we're on target," he reported.

"Roger that," Hunter called back. "We'll be up shortly."

Behind the scouts Hunter turned to look at his charges.

"Commodore, we're almost there," he said. Archer was struggling now, he saw. He had to hand it to the man, he was tough as shoe leather. Remembering the abuse he'd taken at the hands of the Xindi he wondered how hard this was going to be on Archer in his later years.

"That's good to hear," Jon didn't quite gasp out. "Once there we'll rest a minute and then start looking."

"You need to rest more than a minute, sir," Jason suggested.

"We don't have time," Jon shook his head. "We have to hurry."

Hunter nodded but didn't like it. There wasn't much he could do about it though.

"You must rest, Jonathon Archer," T'Pau said softly. "Your courage honors you, and your people, but you cannot continue indefinitely. You must regain your strength."

"You will have to be my strength, T'Pau," Jon smiled weakly. "We're in danger every second we're here. We have to get this thing and get clear. Until we're out of here, we're all in danger."

T'Pau said nothing else as she continued to almost carry her human _en'arh'at_. He was stubborn to a fault, this one. Suddenly she stopped short, Archer almost tumbling from her grasp.

"What is it?" Hunter said, then turned to look behind them as he heard it.

" _Sehlat_ ," T'Pau whispered. "Two, perhaps three," she added. "Hunting," she said after listening another few seconds. "We must evade them or find shelter."

"Bats, take care of that," Hunter ordered simply. The woman nodded and started back the way they had come. Clearly the wild animals were stalking them.

"Noise!" Hunter reminded her and received a middle finger over her shoulder in reply. Chuckling he turned to T'Pau.

"We'll be fine, ma'am," he promised. "Bats will take care of it."

"One female against three _sehlats_?" T'Pau was almost angry. "You would sacrifice her to them?"

"Sacrifice?" Hunter was confused. "Ma'am, Batelli will handle them right enough and rejoin us shortly. She's not in any more danger than the rest of us are just by being here, I promise."

"She will be eaten," T'Pau said flatly. "You have sentenced her to death."

"If she succeeds, will you stop saying that?" Hunter asked.

"She will not."

"If she does?" Hunter countered.

"Then yes, I will," T'Pau promised.

"Deal."

They reached T'Les a minute later and before them sat the ruins of an ancient temple.

"Somewhere inside is what we seek," she said calmly. "We have to get inside to find it."

"Let us enter," Archer said in the voice that usually meant it was Syrran talking.

"Move up," Hunter ordered. T'Les helped T'Pau with the struggling Jon as the group made their way inside. The two women lowered Jon onto a waist high boulder where he could rest for a moment. As he did his eyes roamed the walls of the ancient structure.

"So much lost," he murmured and every eye went to him. He had spoken in a very ancient dialect of Vulcan.

"Surak?" T'Les all but breathed.

"Indeed," Jon's head nodded. "This vessel suffers but his will is the strongest I have known. There is more to these humans than perhaps you know."

"Many of them are strong, and seem to be admirable people," T'Les agreed.

"You have done well, T'Les," the voice said kindly. "I know of the sacrifices you have made. Together we will make them worthwhile. Profitable."

"I live to serve," T'Les bowed her head slowly.

"Help me up, then," Jon ordered. "We must go there," he pointed to a passageway leading down into the ground. "If I recall correctly, this is the corridor."

The two Vulcan women assisted him to his feet. Hunter was in front of them.

"Jax, down the hole. Nice, Rey, Johns you're here. Watch for Batelli to come in, she won't know where we are. Cox, you're with the Commodore." With that he fell in behind Jax and the two headed down. Behind them T'Pau and T'Les assisted the struggling Jon down the passage with Cox bringing up the rear, close by in case he was needed.

Nice looked at the other two staying topside with him.

"Dig in," he told them. "This may be where we have to make our stand."

STE

"We are approximately twelve hours from our destination," T'Pol reported as she stood by Trip's chair. "You need to eat, _adun_ , and take rest while you have the opportunity."

"You do too," he pointed out.

"Vulcans can go many days without-"

"So can I," he reminded her. "But your counsel is wise. We'll take it together," his eyes sparkled.

"Agreed," she replied evenly but her own eyes were mirrors of his.

"Kron, you take the bridge a while?" Trip asked. "You decide to rest just make sure we're manned first."

"Of course my Lord," Kron nodded.

"Call me if you need me," Trip added and then took T'Pol's hand and led her from the bridge. The two made their way to the small private dining area reserved for Trip and whoever he chose to invite. Jen bounded in soon after.

"What'll ya have?" she asked, smiling.

"Surprise me," Trip smiled.

"I will have a salad if you have it," T'Pol requested.

"Sure thing. Be back in a flash."

She was, and the couple ate in silence as T'Pol preferred. Trip ate his sandwich with gusto, not having realized how hungry he was.

"You must eat better, Trip," T'Pol said finally.

"Why?"

"To preserve you. . ." she trailed off. Trip would never have to worry about his health again.

"It's okay," he smiled. "It takes some getting used to, that's all."

"Indeed," T'Pol nodded.

The two finished and headed back to what was now their quarters. Once there they conserved more water, technically anyway. Afterward the two drifted in and out of sleep for a few hours until finally Trip had to get up.

"What is wrong?" T'Pol asked sleepily.

"Nothin'," he promised. "Just don't sleep much, that's all. I'll wake you before we get there. Sleep until then." He kissed her gently.

"Very well," she murmured against him and her head rested on the pillows again. Trip was suddenly glad that this wasn't the _Acheron_. It would have felt wrong if he and T'Pol had shared the same bed he had shared with Neera. Trip realized then that this was the first time since all this had begun that he had thought of Neera Trivett.

And that meant that he hadn't really loved her like she deserved.

 _You were right to do as you did, Charles_ , he heard. _You are an honorable man_.

 _I get by is all_ , Trip shrugged mentally. _I get by._

STE

Stephanie Batelli had started her life as an Augment. Few people knew that but Jason Hunter did. He had been the one to almost kill her, surprising her with his greater strength and speed in a battle that should have gone much differently.

He had offered her a new chance at life, a life that would be long and full of adventure. Sensing a chance to be free of the Eugenics War, she had accepted on what she had assumed would be her death bed.

She had never regretted that decision.

Now she was walking back up a small canyon she had just traversed with Hunter, stalking sehlats that were trying to stalk them. She halted as one of the giant beasts emerged from the rocks perhaps fifty meters ahead. It roared as if in challenge and she was tempted to roar right back, but didn't. If he was appearing this far ahead of her, he was possibly trying to draw her attention.

As soon as that thought formed she whirled, catching sight of a smaller but still huge _sehlat_ already in mid-air, leaping at her from the rocks. Her rifle snapped up as if it had a mind of its own and she opened fire. Five rounds cracked out of the barrel through a suppressor and slammed into the giant cat like beast. She managed to evade the body as if completed its fall, but a giant paw sideswiped her arm, tearing chunks of flesh from her left arm.

Ignoring the wound she turned her attention to the first beast, and found it had already closed to within ten meters of her position. _Wily beasts_. Her rifle spoke again and the first _sehlat_ went tumbling in the dirt ass over head before coming to rest less than five meters from her.

 _There might be another_ , she remembered as she changed out the magazine in her rifle. She scanned the area but could see nothing. Keeping a careful eye out and one hand on her rifle she knelt and took hold of the first beast she had killed and drug it toward the canyon wall. Once there she hurried back for the second and soon had both under a small outcropping.

Using her _sai_ , Batelli cut away the back of the small overhang, dropping it atop both bodies. Using her hands she added sand and dirt from the canyon floor to make sure the two cats were hidden. Satisfied that she was finished, Batelli started back in the direction she had come, turning to take one last look behind her.

And froze.

Very distant she could see what looked like a patrol heading her way. At least fifteen people. She raised her rifle and used her scope to examine the approaching group. At least five of them were human she realized with a start.

 _That has to be Archer's men_ , she realized with a start. They were supposed to be with the Vulcans who were after the girl.

Without another thought she turned and ran down the canyon, keying her radio as she moved.

They had just run out of time.

 **STE STE STE STE STE**

 _A/N: Gronti Nebula, as far as I know, doesn't exist. Just a tiny little nebulous phenom I invented for this story. Just in case you were looking._

 _Bad_


	16. Chapter 16

_As always gentle reader, I claim no ownership of any kind to Startrek:Enterprise or the universe in which she flies. No need to sue me, denigrate me or behave in any other illogical manner. Have a nice day_ :)

 **STE** **Shadow over Vulcan**

Chapter Sixteen

"Jason do you read?"

Jaden Nicean's head snapped up at that. Bats would only use the radio if there was a problem.

"He's under, Bats," he replied to her. "Say threat."

"Patrol, ten pointers, five rounds, minimum. Two cats down and hidden but evidence remains. Estimate arrival to last known is twenty minutes tops."

"Roger that. Keep coming, Rey is on lookout. He'll spot you in." Two mike clicks answered him.

"Find the Colonel and let him know the score, then get back here on the double," he ordered Johns. The other man nodded and headed down the passageway.

Nice checked his rifle and then made the rounds of the structure they had decided to make their stand in. It shouldn't be much of a fight, he figured. Ten Vulcans against the six of them?

Easy meat.

STE

Hayes saw her. He didn't let on but he saw the woman ahead of them, looking at them through a rifle scope. He had felt her looking at them.

He didn't know how he always knew, but he did. Whenever someone was watching him, he knew it. It was just a feeling he got.

He signaled his men to raise their alert level but otherwise made no move. If she was here, she was probably with Archer. That left him with a dilemma. Did he take out Skon now, removing him as a threat? Or did he allow this to play out and make a play once they found Archer? Maybe try and divert Skon?

"Commander," one of the Vulcans called, and Skon raised a hand to halt the patrol. Hayes spread his team out on both sides of the canyon, all now aware that the threat level was raised.

"Blood, Commander," the scout reported, pointing at two stains on the sand. "Recent, I believe. The trail leads there," he pointed to what looked like a fresh grave against the hillside.

"One of their party killed, perhaps?" Skon indicated.

"Possible, sir," the man nodded. "Shall we check?"

"Yes, but quickly," Skon nodded. "Verify who it is. Perhaps our work is already finished. You," he turned to look at the medic. "Test this blood if you can get a good sample. We may get DNA from it that identifies who was here." The medic nodded and moved forward, tri-corder in hand.

Near the rear Hayes watched carefully. His men were in the back of the group, treated with such contempt that Skon didn't even bother to post a rear-guard behind them. He almost smiled, but that would have given him away.

Here was the perfect chance to take Skon out of play for good, and get his men, too. But again there was that stray thought that Skon might not be the only one out here. Hayes didn't have any real orders for this other than to be here and 'keep an eye on things'. He hadn't been able to talk to the Commodore before they had reported to Skon and all Ross had known was that Archer was 'pursuing leads through other means'.

Hayes was almost sure that 'other means' would include Commander T'Pol, but he didn't know that for a fact. Suddenly he saw several Vulcan heads go up, including Skon's. They all seemed to strain to hear, and he noted that one or two looked a bit pale. He saw Skon hurrying toward him.

"Major, my apologies, but our mission must be put on hold for the moment. You may not can hear it yet, but there is a pack of wild _sehlats_ nearby. Someone killed two of their number recently and they have caught the scent of the blood. We have to take measures to protect ourselves now. We will return to the hunt once the danger passes."

"Two of my men will go with you and lead you back the way we came, then around to meet us again near where we will exit this canyon. The rest of us will go the opposite way and arrive at the rendevous point from that direction. _Sehlats_ are wily predators but occasionally can be thrown off scent by such tactics. If we fail to deceive them, you must be ready to defend yourself for they will attack."

"Yes sir," Hayes nodded, suddenly glad he hadn't killed Skon already. Skon waved two of his own men over and spoke urgently in Vulcan, then turned to Hayes.

"This is Vetan and Sarut," he indicated each man in turn. "My men will be under your command, Major. Please take care of them."

"Like they were my own, sir," Hayes promised. _Because I'd kill my own men if they were traitors like yours are_.

"Let them lead, but they will be your subordinates. Do not tarry, for they are approaching even now. Also," he added, "do not assume that anyone you see is an enemy. This area was once developed and many ruins still stand from our time before. There are frequent pilgrimages into the Forge so we cannot assume that anyone we encounter is automatically an enemy."

"Understood, sir," Hayes nodded, but inwardly bristled slightly. Did he look like an amateur? Well, probably, since he was trying to appear inept.

"Then go and do not hesitate to kill anything on four legs in this place, for they will not hesitate to kill you."

STE

"Two hours until we reach the nebula, my Lord," Dru'hak's voice sounded like gravel over the I/C.

"Okay," Trip replied. "I'll be there in a minute or two." He crossed to the bed and woke T'Pol gently. She stretched like a cat, a highly erotic gesture as far as Trip was concerned, then smiled at him.

"Two hours, _aduna_ ," he told her. "Join me on the bridge when you're ready."

"As you wish my _adun_ ," she nodded, then rose, kissed him, and headed for the shower still completely naked.

"Damn," Trip shook his head at the view then turned to business. By the time he reached the bridge he was focused again.

"We're looking at a total of how many ships?" he asked. Tana'ran consulted her PADD.

"Seventy ships of all classes sir, including the six scouts that left ahead of the rest. Sixty-four vessels in the main body. Thirty-five _D'Kyr_ and twenty-two _Suurok_ class cruisers along with seven support vessels."

"Quite a party," Trip mused. "What do you think, Kron?"

"Some will almost certainly get by us, my lord," Kron said quietly. "Though it is possible that if we isolate the hardliners and destroy them first that might make the remainder hesitate to proceed."

"Suppose," Trip nodded. "I was counting on us being able to stop them."

"We can pursue and destroy them as they go, my lord," Kron pointed out. "Understand that we will take damage, sir. Our shields are strong and our hull thick, but. . .fifty-seven Vulcan cruisers will be able to overwhelm our defenses if they concentrate their fire. And they are nothing if not efficient."

"Too true," Trip sighed. "Still we should be faster and more maneuverable than they are. That will help."

"And the fire will be divided between us and the _Charon_ ," Kron nodded. "We will stop most of them, sir. The Andorians will be able to stop any that make it past us."

"Which will lead to war between Vulcan and Andoria, which will leave this quadrant wide open for the Romulans," Trip nodded. "Still, it's the best we can manage, it looks like."

"It will be sufficient," Kron offered. "And the High Minister may yet be able to convince at least some of them to halt."

"And those that do not we can claim are rogue elements, not under the control of the Vulcan fleet."

"That might work, but will the Andorians not look for any excuse to attack a weakened Vulcan?"

"Probably," Trip nodded. "We'll just have to do the best we can."

STE

Hunter left Johns below and returned to the surface to join Nice and the others. He arrived just as Batelli made her way into the cave.

"Report?"

"I'm not certain but I'm fairly sure it's the Vulcan patrol that Archer was supposed to be a part of," Batelli reported. "At least ten Vulcans and five humans, with the humans wearing what looks like MACO tac gear. I couldn't tell how they were armed."

"Are they following?" Hunter asked.

"Negative," Batelli grinned. "Apparently the two _sehlats_ I killed were part of a larger pack and the pack caught scent of the blood. The Vulcans almost pissed themselves and it looked like they were splitting up. Humans and a couple Vulcans going one way, the rest of the Vulcans going another. I guess they're trying to throw the _sehlats_ off the scent."

"Good work," Hunter nodded. "Take ten and then you can help us prepare for their attack if it comes."

"Sir," she nodded. Hunter checked the preparations they had made, satisfied that they were satisfactory. If they were lucky then Archer would locate this Kerchief or whatever and they could get the hell out of here.

Of course if they weren't lucky they would have to kill a bunch of Vulcans. He shrugged.

Either way, they were ready.

STE

"I'm sure we are in the right place," Archer/Syrran/Surak gasped, leaning heavily on T'Pau. "We must look for a reliquary. It will appear as stone but is actually cast sand. Within will be that which we seek."

"You must rest, Jonathon Archer," T'Pau spoke gently but firmly. "Please sit and allow us to search."

"Okay," it was Archer who replied this time. He sat down on a rock shelf along the wall, T'Pau watching him closely.

"You worry too much," he smiled at her weakly. "It'll be fine."

"You are now all that I have," she said simply. Before he could reply she turned away to assist the others in the search. Archer watched her go, shaking his head at her simplistic way of looking at things.

When this was over he would find her a suitable Vulcan family to live with. One that could help her be whatever it was she chose to be. What she was supposed to be. Someone who would not be so foreign to her own ways.

"Sir, we may have something," Cox said, pulling him from his thoughts. He looked to where Cox was tapping what appeared to be a stalagmite. There was the slightest echo of sound from within.

"This looks like a stalagmite, at least that's what we call them on Earth, but. . .stalagmites are created by water deposits dripping minerals onto the cave floor. There's no water around here to drip anywhere, and. . .there's only the one. In a natural stalagmite occurrence, there would be more than one."

"How do you know that?" Johns asked.

"I was a cave diver in a former life," Cox grinned at the private joke.

"Can you open it?" Jon asked, moving as if to rise.

"Yes sir," the medic nodded, kneeling. He ran his hands over the surface, feeling for cracks or weaknesses, then suddenly drew back his hand and punched the mound along it's base.

A small section broke away, sand and rock falling away from inside. Cox used a small light to shine inside, revealing a small urn that looked like clay.

"Sir?" he turned to look at Jon.

"Remove it," came the order, this time from one of the beings sharing Archer's body. Cox carefully reached inside and grasped the urn shaped vessel in both hands, withdrawing it slowly.

"The _Kir'Shara_ ," T'Les almost breathed, then looked at Archer/Syrran/Surak for confirmation.

"Indeed," he nodded. "Without your help, T'Les, we could not have done it."

"I live to serve," T'Les bowed slightly, her voice subdued. "We should return to the surface. We are still in danger."

Even as she spoke the ground shook, dust and sand falling from the ceiling above them.

"Bombing," Cox said, cradling the urn to him. "We need to get topside and fast!" he hissed. Johns was already moving. Grabbing Archer from T'Pau's grip, he slung the Commodore as if he were nothing and started up the narrow steps, T'Les leading the way with a light.

T'Pau was right behind them, anxious eyes on Archer as she followed Johns. Bringing up the rear, Cox took the time to play his light over the now dark chamber once more, ensuring they had left nothing behind. Satisfied, he turned to follow the others, the ground shaking again as someone made another bombing run.

STE

"What the hell is that?" Hayes looked around, hearing the explosions in the distance.

"We must keep moving," Sarut told him. "We cannot tarry, the _sehlats_ may catch us."

"What's causing those explosions?" Hayes demanded.

"I suspect they are bombing areas of the Forge that are suspected of being occupied by Syrranites," Sarut replied. "Now we must keep moving. _Sehlats_ will not be afraid of the sound of the bombing. They will merely think it part of a storm."

Reluctantly Hayes nodded and he and his people started moving again. They had gone only a short way when they were confronted by another group of Vulcans. Robed against the ravages of the Forge, they were none-the-less armed with lirpas and other weapons.

And they were blocking the way of Hayes' group.

Sarut spoke in rapid Vulcan and Cole roughly translated.

"They're challenging our presence," she whispered. "Not just us humans, but all of us," she added. He nodded and ordered his people to be on the look out.

Sarut and one of the other group continued to exchange verbal challenges.

"This is starting to look like a real challenge," Cole whispered again. "They aren't accepting any kind of authority for our being here."

"Be ready to defend yourselves," Hayes ordered. He hoped their phase rifles would function better than the old pulse rifles would have in this environment. If they didn't, it would be bad.

Suddenly Sarut changed his stance, stepping into what Hayes thought of as a combat drop.

 _Screw this_ , he thought to himself. Taking one step forward he raised his rifle and clubbed the Vulcan in the back of the head. Vetan started to turn but Cole, despite being caught by surprise, slammed the butt of her own rifle into the side of his face, putting him down hard.

"Hold it!" she called in passable Vulcan as the other group moved toward them. "We are not your enemy!"

"What'd you tell them?" Hayes demanded.

"That we aren't their enemy," she supplied. One of the Vulcans barked a harsh order. She replied more calmly, but the man repeated his order again. She shook her head and spoke again, trying to sound calm.

"Cole," Hayes growled.

"He wants us to disarm," she told him, eyes never leaving the group in front. "I told him that wasn't going to happen."

"Ask them who they are," he ordered. She did, and the man replied.

"They're pilgrims but know that there are 'criminals' in the Forge, attempting to arrest peaceful monks who are opposed to violence."

"From their stance I'm assuming they aren't among that number," Hayes growled softly.

"No, they aren't," Cole nodded. "They're here to help protect the one they call. . .what?" she looked puzzled.

"What, what?" Hayes asked, then frowned. That sounded wrong

"They're using a feminine sounding title, but I don't recognize it. _Eshikh Svai-tor_? I think?"

"What the hell does that mean?"

"Desert Flower?" Cole looked puzzled herself. "Who the hell is Desert Flower? And why do they think we're after her?"

"Ah, shit," Hayes shook his head.

It was one of those days.

STE

"Well, this is a depressing development," Hunter sighed. "We can stay here out of sight and risk being buried alive, or we can venture out in the open and risk being shot on sight."

"Out in the open," Bats said at once, shuddering. "I don't want to be entombed down here. Or anywhere else for that matter." The others nodded, fearing that above perhaps all else for reasons the rest would not understand.

"We must get Archer to Gol," T'Les stated firmly.

"Gol is not necessary," T'Pau spoke up. "The priests of _Ozh-dukal t' T'Khasi_ can perform the needed ceremony and restore Jonathon Archer to himself as well as preserve the _katra_ s of Syrran and Surak."

"What?" Hunter asked.

"They are not that far, less than a half-day's journey," she affirmed. "We must hurry before we are discovered here."

"Wait," T'Les held up a hand, looking at T'Pau. "T'Pau, we cannot go to _Ozh-dukal t'T'Khasi_ and you know this. They are not much better than _Rhihannsu_."

"They are nothing like the Winged Ones," T'Pau defended. "They have protected us against threats for many years. Syrran sometimes left me in their care when he was away from the Forge. While militant, they embrace logic unlike the Winged Ones. They will assist us," she said firmly.

"Ma'am, are you positive?" Hunter asked.

"Yes." Her tone was firm.

"Nice, Jax, point," Hunter ordered. "T'Les do you know the way?"

"I know the direction," she admitted. "Not the place. I can take us at least part way."

"I know the way," T'Pau promised. "I will advise you when we are near. I know you doubt, T'Les, but it will be well. They will honor Surak."

"We've got a plan people, so let's move," Hunter ordered. With Cox carrying the urn and assisting with Archer on one side while T'Pau took the other, the small group made their way out of the old temple and began the next leg of their journey.

STE

Skon nodded in satisfaction as his small patrol met with his reinforcements scarcely a mile from where he had parted ways with the meddlesome humans.

"Commander," the platoon leader saluted.

"We must move at once," Skon ordered. "We are already behind, delayed by the humans. We must hurry or we may lose them."

"We stand ready," the other man nodded and issued orders to his unit. In seconds scouts were heading out in front of the unit.

"Speed is most important at this juncture," Skon ordered. "They know we are coming."

They moved quickly.

STE

"Sir, the Vulcans are on sensors now," Tana'ran reported. Her voice was a bit strained. She was aware that the size of the Vulcan fleet headed for her homeworld might well be enough to overwhelm the Imperial Guard if sufficient ships could not be recalled in time.

"ETA?" Trip asked, looking up from the PADD he was using.

"No more than half-an-hour, sir," she replied.

"Kron, time to go to Battle Stations. Julio make sure _Charon_ knows the score."

Once more klaxons and red lights flashed throughout the ship as hatches were dogged tight and stations manned. Trip hit the switch on his chair I/C.

" _Engineering_ ," Tala's voice came across quickly.

"Tala, we're gonna be looking at a whole slew o' Vulcans here shortly. Plan to use Warp Two to help power guns and shields. We'll need all the power we can get if it drops in the fire."

" _Roger that, sir_ ," Tala's voice was firm and confident. " _We'll make sure you can blast those pointy ear bastards straight to hell. Uh, no offense to the Misses, sir_ ," she added a bit sheepishly.

"Don't think she'll feel any," Trip allowed his humor to carry in his voice. "Make sure all your D/C teams are ready. No tellin' how bad this might be."

" _We're set, sir. My word on it, we'll take care of it."_

"I know you will. Be safe."

" _You too, sir_ ," and she was gone.

"All right people, look sharp," Trip called across the bridge. "Things are about to get real interesting around here." He turned to where Soval and Kuvak were arriving in the bridge, escorted by Tragon-Das himself.

"Sir," he saluted Klingon style, which had been officially adopted by the ship's crew and then assumed his post near the bridge entrance.

"Minister, we're right on the edge," Trip said. "You can start any time you like."

"Now would seem appropriate," the older man replied. "Can your man connect me with the _Ni'Var_? Captain Sopek is her Captain."

"I remember him," Trip nodded, and motioned for Julio to try the call. "He seemed okay enough back then," he mentioned.

"He is an honorable man," Soval nodded.

"He's okay," Trip repeated, and felt a tingle of humor in his mind from T'Pol. A minute passed before Sopek appeared on screen.

"Greetings again, Captain Sopek," Soval spoke evenly, Kuvak having moved out of sight for the moment.

"Soval," Sopek was stiffly formal. "It is not agreeable or proper for you to contact me."

"Nor is it agreeable or proper for you to be carrying out this unlawful attack on Andoria. An unprovoked attack, Captain, at that."

"You have been deemed a traitor to Vulcan, Soval, so your words on such a subject must be held as suspect."

Kuvak walked into view at that precise moment, and Trip realized with a nod of admiration the two had planned it that way.

"Do you likewise deem me to be someone who must be held as suspect, Captain?" the minister spoke with quiet dignity and authority that he wore like a cloak.

"Minister," Sopek inclined his head. "I have no such information on you," he admitted warily.

"For there is none," Kuvak nodded in return. "And that which is said concerning Soval is an untruth, spoken by an enemy to all people of Vulcan. A man who works to weaken our world and our people on behalf of our oldest enemies."

"How does our attacking Andoria weaken our world, minister?" Sopek asked. "They cannot attack us if they are defending against us."

"We have far older enemies than Andoria, Captain Sopek," Kuvak said flatly. "And V'Las is in their employ, if not one of them himself. You are aware of the attack on the human Embassy?"

"Only peripherally," Sopek replied.

"Then you know that V'Las has accused a sect of monks from the Forge for the attack?"

Sopek frowned slightly at that, an eyebrow rising toward his scalp.

"Our orders contained information that Andoria was responsible for the attack," he was cautious now.

"Then why would V'Las send so many troops into the Forge in search of a simple band of monks who espouse peace in all things? Order the Forge bombed in order to try and eradicate them? Accuse them directly in a report to the Earth government, and hold them responsible?"

"I am not aware of such," Sopek responded. "And in any event, my orders are clear, Minister."

"Your orders are clearly illegal," Kuvak countered. "Issued by a man who has usurped authority that is not his to wield. The fact that we have allowed him to wield it does not give him the right to continue to do so. As a Minister of the High Council, do you not admit that I have the authority to countermand any orders issued by the High Command?"

Sopek looked downright uncomfortable at that one, Trip decided.

"It is not so simple, Minister," Sopek replied after a lengthy pause. "Our orders are clear-"

"Repeating how clear your orders are in the face of countermanding orders issued by a higher authority is illogical," Kuvak intoned. "V'Las does not have the power or authority to order such an attack. You and the other Captains are violating Surak's teaching with this unprovoked attack on an unsuspecting people. You are in fact in violation of Vulcan law."

Sopek was starting to sweat a little, Trip decided. Kuvak was good.

"Minister, my orders are clear-" Sopek began again.

"Captain, cease your babbling and speak as a Vulcan entrusted with command of a ship of Vulcan, and with the protection of our people," Kuvak's voice rose just slightly. "If you are incapable of formulating your own thoughts then perhaps you have no business being in command of such a vessel."

Sopek was definitely starting to sweat, Trip decided.

"Minister, this is highly unusual," Sopek said finally.

"That is true, Captain," Kuvak nodded. "It is also a travesty. We have allowed this man V'Las to rise to power and now a man who is a traitor is seated in a place of power and seeks greater power still. Tell me Captain, would a true Vulcan seek such power? Would he desire the ability to destroy innocent life when there is no threat to Vulcan?"

Trip watched as understanding seemed to dawn on the Vulcan Captain.

"Minister I do not believe so," Sopek admitted. "It is not how we are taught. Not how things should be."

"Indeed, Captain, it is not," Kuvak nodded. "Soval stands accused of treason because he has opposed V'Las' illegal orders, Captain. I submit to you that such defiance is not treason, but is in fact valor and service in the face of terrible danger. He had worked to prevent acts just such as this from occurring, and for that V'Las seeks to destroy him."

"Every word he has spoken to you is truth, Captain Sopek. V'Las is the enemy here, not Soval and not Andoria. You and your colleagues are being used, Captain. Horribly used. Many of your ships and men will perish needlessly in this useless battle and to what end? Only to deprive us of their service when we are attacked by a far more deadly enemy. One from our past, Captain."

" _Rhihannsu_ ," Sopek almost breathed, and Kuvak nodded.

"Yes, the stories, the myths, the legends are all true, Captain. The Romulans are indeed the Winged Ones, and V'Las is in their employ if not actually one himself. To coin a human phrase, Captain, you have been had." Sopek suddenly looked off screen and then looked back.

"Minister we are about to drop out of warp," he reported. "There is a ship blocking our way."

"I am on that ship," Kuvak nodded. "And he will not let you pass, Captain. Speak to your fellows. Invite them to speak with me. Relay my orders to them. Return to Vulcan. Refuse any more illegal orders from the traitor V'Las, and await further orders."

"I will do so, Minister," Sopek promised, and the screen went blank.

"Think it'll work?" Trip asked, hopeful.

"That is my hope," Kuvak nodded. "We cannot allow this, Captain Tucker. It will be the doom of us all. The shadow over Vulcan will envelop the entire quadrant."

Trip nodded, his eyes drifting to the sensor scopes as the Vulcans began dropping out of warp.

"Julio, advise _Charon_ to maintain cloaking and ECM until and unless I order otherwise." He turned to look at the rest.

"And now we wait."

 **STE STE STE STE STE**

 _ **A/N:**_ _The_ _ **Ozh-dukal t' T'Khasi**_ _is yet another figment of my imagination. In realizing that I had completely screwed up the timeline with my first story I decided_ 'in for a penny, in for a pound', _and decided I'd_ really _change things up a bit. It's all done to create a good story though and not to slight the Trek universe in any way_.


	17. Chapter 17

_And here we are once again at the point where I entreat all and sundry to realize that this is a mere work of fan appreciation and there is no claim of ownership, no money being made and no offense when none is. . .given. Or something._

 **STE**

Chapter Seventeen

Hunter watched the Commodore with mounting concern. T'Pau and Cox were basically carrying the man as they trekked across yet another expanse of the Forge, headed for this _ozh-dukal t'T'Khasi_ place and hopefully someone who could help him.

He had to admit he was impressed with T'Pau. She had been difficult for a moment, but then she had just seen the only person she had as family in the world killed before her eyes. Even for a Vulcan that was a loss and a shock that couldn't be overstated.

And she seemed to have made it her mission in life to help Archer. Hunter had detected a very noticeable thawing of Archer's attitude toward Vulcans too. At least toward T'Pau, and to a lesser extent T'Les.

He hoped that the monks in this place would be able to help.

STE

"Sir?" Cole glance at Hayes and then back to the Vulcans confronting them.

"I got a feeling I know who they're talking about," Hayes admitted. "Ask them if they're talking about T'Pau and Syrran. Just ask 'em," he repeated when she shot him another glance.

Cole called to them in Vulcan and Hayes noted two of them stiffen slightly. The speaker replied.

"They have heard of them," Cole told him. "All they'll admit to."

"Tell them that we have intelligence that V'Las is trying to kill them both, especially T'Pau," Hayes gambled. "Tell them that Commodore Archer sent us to try and prevent that if we can. To protect T'Pau and keep her safe."

"We do? He did?" Cole asked.

"Just tell them!" Hayes hissed. Cole did as ordered, stumbling a few times over the right words but finally managing to get the message across. The reply was quicker.

"Why would a human care about the life of a Vulcan?" Cole translated.

"Archer knows that T'Pau is innocent. He knows that V'Las is lying and trying to blame the death of over a hundred humans on a young woman who is not a violent being. He ordered us to find and protect her, and is trying to do the same thing himself. We were supposed to keep an eye on Skon and try to slow him down."

"So that's why," he heard from behind him and nodded absently. Cole relayed the message and Hayes noted for the first time the monks beginning to relax. One stepped forward slightly, lowering his facial covering.

"I would like to believe you," the Vulcan spoke in passable UE Standard. "Can you offer us anything like proof of what you say human?" Hayes didn't miss the hopeful note in the man's voice.

"What do you know of the V'Shar?" Hayes asked, searching what he knew for anything he could use.

"I know they are not always the friends of Vulcan," the man said warily.

"The explosive used to attack our embassy was theirs," Hayes told him flatly. "A former operative who works for Starfleet now showed us that. It's a formula known only to them. Sound familiar?"

"It sounds plausible," the man nodded and spoke over his shoulder to the four men behind him in Vulcan.

"He's relaying your story," Cole whispered. "I thought this T'Pau was the criminal," she added.

"I know," Hayes nodded. "We had to maintain the illusion as long as we could. If we're lucky, Archer already found the girl. We have to keep Skon from finding them. And I'm figuring that Skon had more men waiting for him out here. Those _sehlats_ were a good chance to get us out of his hair."

"What do you propose to do, human?" the man asked finally.

"We need to get back on Skon's trail," Hayes admitted. "We've got to keep him from taking or killing T'Pau. It's the only way to prove her innocence and nail V'Las for what he's done. Not only is he killing our people, he's killing yours as well."

Again the Vulcan spoke in his own language to his men. Two nodded in reply, the other two speaking. Finally the leader turned back to them.

"We propose to work together, human. We seek the same thing. To protect _Eshikh Svai-tor_ , as we have always done. As we always will."

"How 'bout that?" Hayes smiled.

STE

Skon looked at the remains of the temple as his men scoured the ground. They were too late.

"Commander, the trail leads this way," one of his scouts reported. "There are nine, perhaps ten in the party. One is small, and one is almost certainly injured, judging by the tracks."

"Pursue," Skon ordered. "How old do you estimate the trail is?" he asked.

"At least four hours," the scout reported. Skon wanted to curse at the time lost in avoiding the _sehlat_ pack. What should have been a simple operation was becoming problematic.

"We can make better time if one of their party is injured," the platoon leader noted and Skon nodded. There was that, at least. He wondered who was injured.

"Let us depart."

He could still fulfill his mission.

STE

"He must rest," T'Pau told Hunter as Archer struggled to stay upright.

"How much further to this place?" Hunter asked.

"Perhaps three hours at this rate, but we are slowing all the time," she informed him. Hunter slung his rifle suddenly and walked to where she stood with a struggling Archer. Without a word or even a grunt of effort he pulled Archer across his shoulders, settling the Commodore across him as carefully as possible.

"Cox, give Miss T'Pau that urn," he ordered. "And let's move."

T'Pau started to object, not believing that a human could possibly carry another in the Forge, at least not for long, but then the words of Archer/Surak/Syrran from their time in the cave came back to her.

 _You are not human_. Hunter had admitted to such. Yet he looked human. If he was not human then what was he?

It did not matter, so long as Archer survived. For some reason that had become a very important thing in T'Pau's life. Archer _must_ live. She cradled the urn to her and stayed as close to her ailing _en'arh'at_ as she could. Without his touch as she supported him she felt. . .detached.

It was most disagreeable.

STE

"Well, what do you think?" Trip asked. It had been thirty minutes since Kuvak's speech to Sopek.

"Sopek is a senior Captain in the Vulcan fleet," Soval informed him. "His word will carry weight with many, but now with all. How many will listen is the variable we cannot know."

"Maybe call some others?" Trip suggested.

"To do so would interfere with Sopek's attempts, if indeed he is making such an attempt," Kuvak responded to that one. "It is better to allow him this time to work."

"Okay," Trip nodded.

"Message incoming," Julio called no sooner than Trip had spoken. Suddenly Sopek appeared on screen.

"I have persuaded some of my colleagues to abandon this attack," he said without preamble. "Several of the ships where Captains have refused to obey are experiencing security issues. Twenty-nine ships including my own are returning to Vulcan. Of the remainder I cannot speak to their conditions." He paused.

"I do not know how you can prevent their continuing on with the attack," he admitted. "Most are determined to follow V'Las' orders."

"You have done well, Captain," Kuvak nodded. "You are a most agreeable choice for a leader of our people and their military."

"I live to serve," Sopek bowed. "If there is an attack on Vulcan, we will be there to intercept it."

"Ignore any orders you may receive from V'Las, Captain," Kuvak instructed. "His time has ended."

"As you command, Minister." The screen went dark.

"Ships separating from the fleet," Tana'ran reported a minute later. "Number is correct, sir. Twenty-nine ships, including _Ni'Var_. Going to warp now," she added. "Total ship count is now thirty-five, not counting the scout ships. We have no data on them at all, sir."

"Have to assume the Andorians got them," Trip sighed. "A small incursion should be enough to allow for explaining it away as a misunderstanding."

"Possibly," Tana'ran admitted. "I do not know."

"Well, thirty-five is manageable, I'd think, between us and the _Charon_ ," Trip winked and the girl smiled nervously. Trip knew she was worried.

"Sir, I'm not sure what's going on but I think the Vulcans are about to mix it up among themselves," Julio noted. "I'm getting a lot of chatter that I can't quite make out, but-"

"Vulcan cruisers maneuvering," Kron reported. "Concur with Julio, my lord. Vulcan ships may be moving to-, ships are firing, my lord!"

"On screen," Trip ordered. "Magnify!" The screen blew up before them as they were able to zoom into the action before them.

"I think that might be the ships that Sopek spoke of," Trip said quietly. "I guess someone got control, after all."

"We're being hailed, sir," Julio called. "Vulcan signal."

"On screen," Trip ordered at once. Seconds later a Vulcan female officer appeared. Her scalp was lacerated and green tinged blood was flowing down the side of her head.

"Minister, my ship and six others are attempting to follow your orders, but elements aboard prevented us from following Captain Sopek. We are now cut off and taking fire from our own people. I request instructions."

"Captain are you the senior officer among the seven?" Kuvak asked.

"I am sir," she nodded. "Captain T'Pirr."

"Take command of the squadron and defend your ships, Captain," Kuvak ordered grimly. "I will seek assistance for you. Send transponder data for your ships at once."

"Yes Minister." The screen went blank. Kuvak turned to look at Trip.

"Will you assist them, Captain?" he asked.

"Yes," Trip nodded at once. "Julio, signal _Charon_ that we will move in at once, and attempt to disable as many of the rogue ships as we can. Make sure Captain Meadows gets that transponder data, but tell him to wait for orders before moving."

"Aye, milord!" Julio worked furiously.

"Jerry, take us in. Kron, mind what I said now," he ordered. "If we can disable them, I'd prefer to do that rather than destroy them outright."

"Yes my lord," Kron sounded as if he had been told he was not allowed to go outside and play. His hands flew across his board and suddenly _Reaper_ shuddered.

"Are we hit?" Soval asked.

"No, that was us," Trip assured him.

"Explain," Kuvak ordered.

"We're much more heavily armed than your ships, Minister," Trip obliged. "And we're more heavily armored as well. When we fire a large percentage of our weaponry in tandem," the ship shook again, "we feel it in here. We're fine," he assured.

"I begin to see why my son has such confidence in you, Captain," Kuvak said.

"Kov helped me make this happen, Minister," Trip replied. "He is one of my closest friends. Someone I would kill for. Even die for," he added.

"You honor him," Kuvak nodded his head deeply.

"No, his friendship honors _me_."

STE

"We got company," Cox reported quietly. "There's at least a platoon of Vulcans behind us, maybe two kilometers and closing."

"Damn," Hunter exclaimed. "Miss T'Pau, how far?" Hunter asked.

"Perhaps another hour at this pace," she replied. She was struggling now. Hunter called a halt.

"Cox, take the Commodore," he ordered, shifting his burden to Cox. "Bats, you're with him. You'll take the Commodore and the civilians and continue on. Ensure the Commodore's survival along with Miss T'Pau. The rest of you, dig in. Rey, take that ridge behind us and set up over watch." He looked at Cox.

"We'll buy you what we can, but you're gonna have to light a fire, boy-o. No time to tarry." Sometimes Hunter's 'Brit' showed more than others. "Shag on it now!" he ordered. Cox shifted Archer's bulk and started moving, Bats riding drag while T'Les and T'Pau led the way.

"Long bloody way from Mogadishu," Hunter said to himself. "Who would have thought."

STE

Skon was not paying attention to his surroundings as he studied the map in his hands and reviewed his orders. This area of the Forge, like most others, was not ideal for using technology and without scanners it was difficult to locate their targets.

His first warning that something was amiss was an shout from the rear of the formation. The Vulcan commandos were in a spread formation that allowed them to cover the most ground and kept them from losing more than one or two men to booby traps. It was a proven formation.

He turned at the shout and looked behind him, stunned to see eight of his men lying on the ground behind him, green blood seeping out onto the unforgiving sands of the Forge.

"We are under attack!" he shouted to be heard. "Cover and locate!" he shouted even as two more of his men fell without no sound that he could hear. He hit the ground himself, cursing in a most un-Vulcan like manner, which was appropriate since he was not a Vulcan.

Ten men down and no sign of the enemy at all.

STE

"You hear that?" Hayes looked at Cole. They were currently following the five Vulcan commandos across the forge.

"I heard something," Cole nodded. "Don't know. . .there it is again."

"Do you hear that?" he asked the Vulcan that spoke English.

"It is disruptor fire," the Vulcan nodded. "Very distant, perhaps two kilometers. Gauging distance in this region is difficult because of the hills."

"We need to pick up the pace," Hayne suggested. "That may be Skon and he's already found them."

"Very well," the Vulcan nodded. "It may be difficult," he warned.

"If we wanted easy wouldn't be MACOs," Hayes snorted. "Lets move."

STE

 _Reaper_ shuddered again, this time from incoming torpedo fire. Three Vulcan cruisers had coordinated their attack against the _Reaper_ 's port side.

"Shields are at fifty-nine percent port side," Dru'hak reported. "Hull integrity at nintey-eight percent, hull polarization at ninety percent and holding."

"Roll ship one hundred-eighty degrees," Trip ordered. "Show them our good side," he joked. "Julio, status on _Charon_?"

"Awaiting orders, sir," came the reply.

"Stand by and maintain ECM for now," Trip ordered.

"Why do you not call them into the fight?" Soval asked.

"Hole card," Trip replied. "I'm not sure the Andorians won't show up wanting to kill as many weakened Vulcan ships as they can. If they do, I'll have a surprise for 'em."

"Logical," Kuvak nodded.

"Captain, one of the Seven is failing badly," Tana'ran reported.

"Concur," T'Pol agreed. "The _Suraan_ is losing atmosphere and has lost shields. Multiple hull breaches and at least one fire."

"Get us closer, Jerry," Trip ordered and hit his I/C.

"Tala, can you get someone to Transporter 3? We need to try and rescue a Vulcan crew."

" _On the way_!" Tala replied.

"Get security down there, Dru'hak," Trip ordered. "And have Trina escorting Delana if she has to treat any wounded. Make sure at least some of the security are Hunter's crew as well as your men."

"Aye milord," the older Klingon nodded and made the arrangements.

"Give Transporter Room 3 coordinates for the beam out, T'Pol," he ordered.

"Already done, Captain." He felt that now familiar wash of warmth and humor come over him and knew that she was smiling inwardly.

"Steady as she goes, Jerry," he ordered. "Shelter the _Suraan_ as much as we can until we can get their crew off."

"Aye, milord," Jerry nodded, maneuvering the great ship with an ease that showed his skill.

"Kron, how we comin'?" he asked.

"Nine of the hostile ships are out of action, my lord," he reported. "Two others are badly damaged and most of the rest have at least some damage." Trip nodded and turned to Kuvak.

"Want to try again?" he asked.

"I will do what I can," he nodded.

"All channels broadcast, Julio. All bands."

"Ready milord," Julio called after a minute. Trip looked at Kuvak and nodded.

"Attention Vulcan ships," Kuvak spoke. "I am Minister Kuvak of the High Council. Those of you following the orders of V'Las are doing so illegally. He does not possess the right nor the authority to authorize an attack on Andoria or any other target without the permission of the Council. You know that I speak truth to you. Thus far those who seek to prevent your illegal actions have acted with restraint, disabling your ships rather than destroying them. You know this cannot continue."

"You know that I have the authority to issue the orders I have given. You are in violation of Vulcan law, in violation of the teachings of Surak, and you are now guilty of treason and using violence against your own people. Cease this illegal and illogical action now and let us have peace among ourselves, as we should." He looked at Trip as he spoke his next words.

"This will be your last warning," he said evenly. "Up until now the Captain of this vessel has sought to prevent unnecessary loss of life, seeking to disable rather than destroy your ships. If you do not cease these actions and submit to lawful authority I will request that he destroy you. You surely realize now that he can do so. You have two minutes to reply with your acquiescence to this lawful command. If you do not, the consequences are on your head." He nodded to Julio who cut the feed.

"Two minutes, Captain, and then I request that you act to protect as many of those loyal to Vulcan as you can, whatever it may take to accomplish that."

"Very well Minister," Trip said formally. "Kron, select targets by their remaining combat ability. We will attack with ToT on each one in descending order until they surrender or we have destroyed them."

"Aye my lord," Kron nodded.

"Transfer of _Suraan_ 's personnel complete, _Adun_ ," T'Pol reported. " _Surran_ 's core is possibly becoming critical."

"Move us away, Jerry," Trip ordered. "Minister would you like the Captain escorted to the bridge?"

"That would be agreeable once any injuries are seen to," Kuvak nodded. Trip nodded to Dru'hak who turned to his own I/C and began issuing orders.

"The rest of the crew will be kept under guard until the battle is decided," Trip ordered. "Soval, you may want to go and speak with them. I can't allow them to be running around on my ship not knowing who is who."

"I will see to it, Captain," Soval nodded and departed.

"One minute remaining, my lord," Julio called.

"One minute," Trip nodded.

STE

"This is a delaying action," Skon told the platoon commander, surveying the terrain ahead. "I see no sign of our quarry among those visible in the distance. They are seeking to allow our targets to escape." He lowered his glasses and looked at his subordinate.

"You will maintain your suppressing fire while I take a small team and skirt their flank. I will continue pursuit while you prevent them from following."

"Understood," the other man nodded. Skon called four of his original men to him and led them away from the main position, using the rocks as cover. Gradually the sound of firing fell away as the group made their way clear and then circled around to find the trail once more.

"We should attack our enemy's rear, sir," one commando suggested.

"There is no time," Skon shook his head. "Our comrades will deal with them. We must locate our targets and eliminate them. Move."

STE

"I count twenty-five, at least," Cole said, looking through her scope at the ground ahead.

"Yeah but who are they shooting at?" Hayes wondered.

"I see one of the guys that was with Skon," Cole reported, still scanning. "Is this an 'enemy of my enemy' kind of thing, Major?" she asked.

"It's looking that way," he nodded, sighing. He turned to the Vulcan, who had said to call him 'Vuul'. Sounded like a real name.

"Mister Vuul, I think we need to try and reduce these guys. They're in the company of known subversives who are following the illegal orders of a man who is trying to usurp power he has no right to." _Damn that sounded cool_.

"Agreed," 'Vuul' nodded. "We will attack."

"You guys don't seem all that peaceful to me," Hayes murmured.

"We are not," 'Vuul' replied. "Unlike the followers of Syrran, while we do embrace logic, we believe that each society must have someone willing to wield violence in protection of the remainder. We are that someone for Vulcan."

"I like it," Hayes nodded. "Let's go wield some violence."

"Indeed."

STE

"We got company again," Bats reported. "Looks like five, trailing us. Must have slipped around the Colonel."

"I see nothing," T'Pau squinted, looking back.

"Bats has great vision," Cox promised. "Can you two ladies pick up the pace any?" he asked.

"We will do what we must," T'Les nodded tiredly. "I do not see how you can go faster carrying the Commodore."

"I'll be fine for a while," Cox promised. He didn't add that what he was about to do would leave him nearly catatonic for a minimum of six to eight hours without a blood transfusion that he wasn't likely to get out here. He looked at Batelli.

"It'll be up to you," he warned.

"Noted," was all she said.

"Then let's get it." With that Cox made sure of his grip on Archer and broke into a ground eating run, drawing on his symbiot for the added strength he needed to get the job done.

"How. . ." T'Pau tried to ask.

"Save your breath, ma'am, and get it in gear," Batelli ordered. T'Pau looked at her in confusion, not understanding the reference.

"Run!"

T'Pau ran.

STE

"I don't think they know we're here yet, Major," Cole noted as she shot her second Vulcan.

"Yeah, too bad," Hayes nodded.

"Doesn't seem sporting shooting them in the back, does it?" Wilcox observed.

"Their backs are to us," Hayes shrugged.

"Point," the commando agreed as he fired again.

STE

"Someone's helping out," Rey called to Hunter. "I can't make 'em out."

"It's that MACO outfit, what's his name? Mays or something?" Johns called over the radio.

"Hayes," Hunter supplied. "His name is Hayes. He had a team that was supposed to be with Skon, slowing them down."

"Well he's doing a _bang_ up job," Rey noted drily.

"He wasn't with them," Hunter pointed out. "Probably got separated from them."

"Or Skon found a way to send him off somewhere," Johns offered. "He's a tricky bastard."

"Either way it looks like he's making up for it now," Hunter decided.

It took another twenty minutes until the last member of the Vulcan party was dispatched. Neither side even considered taking prisoners. It wasn't that kind of battle. Hunter and his men started forward, Rey maintaining his overwatch just in case.

As they approached the bodies of the Vulcan commandos, Hunter noted that the others were approaching from the opposite direction. He waited for them to reach speaking distance.

"You Hayes?" he asked calmly.

"That's right," the larger of the humans nodded. "You with the Commodore?" he asked.

"He's gone on ahead," Hunter replied. "We were holding this group in place while they _didi_ 'd. Escaped, I meant," Hunter corrected.

"I know what it means," Hayes nodded. "Know where they're going?"

"Some place called _oduke Tkar_ , I think," Hunter nodded.

" _Ozh-dukal t'T'Khasi_ ," 'Vuul' noted. "How do they know of such a place?" he demanded.

"Lady with the Commodore knows the way," Hunter said warily. "She's taking him there. He needs a priest for some reason."

"Where is Syrran?" 'Vuul' asked.

"Storm got him," Hunter's voice softened. "It looked like a lightning strike. T'Les called it a Sandfire. Came straight through the cave entrance and hit him in the chest."

"Syrran has fallen?" 'Vuul' paled slightly. "That is most disagreeable news," he tried to stay stoic. "Much is lost if he has fallen."

"Maybe not," Hunter decided to take a chance. "He apparently passed something to Archer before he died. And made Archer T'Pau's guardian, too."

"I bet that went over well," Hayes snorted.

"'Bout like a lead balloon at first," Hunter nodded. "Seems to be warming up to it, though. Archer seems to be the type to take responsibility seriously."

"Maybe too much," Hayes agreed, then looked at 'Vuul'. "Can you take us there, Mister Vuul? This may not be the only group after them."

"Major we got a problem," Cole called out before Vuul could respond. Hayes turned.

"What is it?"

"That Skon guy? From the embassy?" Cole said. "He's not here."

"Son-of-a-bitch," Hunter swore bitterly. "How the _hell_ did they get around us?" He keyed his mike.

"Rey, be alert, Skon isn't here. You got a visual?"

"Negative, sir," Rey called back. "No movement anywhere around," he added after twenty seconds.

"Okay people, we need to move!" Hunter called out, looking at Vuul. "You don't know us, but our orders are to protect Archer and T'Pau no matter what the cost. Will you show us where they've gone? We've got to catch up. There are two of my people with them, but we don't know how many are with Skon."

"At least five," Wilcox called in. "Got a trail. Looks like they made their way through the rocks and around."

"Right where we couldn't see," Hunter shook his head angrily. "Damn it."

"Save that for later," Hayes suggested. "Let's get a move on." He looked at Vuul. "You lead, we'll follow."

The Vulcan considered for perhaps two seconds before nodding and breaking into a run.

Everyone followed.


	18. Chapter 18

_No ownership implied and no infringement intended. This is a work of fan appreciation written for entertainment purposes only._

 **STE STE STE**

Chapter Eighteen

"Time's up, milord," Julio said softly. Trip nodded.

"Any response?" he asked, though he didn't expect any.

"Not ye-, wait, we're being hailed. Three, no five signals," he reported. The screen split as one after another five Vulcans appeared.

"Minister, we have heard you," one said flatly. "While we do not understand what is happening, we recognize your authority, and will cease operations."

"That is insufficient," Kuvak told them sternly. "You must aid Captain T'Pirr and her remaining vessels against the pawns of V'Las. They are, by their actions, traitors to Vulcan. Enemies that must be stopped."

"Minister, what you ask-" one began only to be cut off.

"I do not ask," Kuvak's voice cracked like a whip. "I command. Do as you are bid and try to regain your honor as servants of Vulcan!" All five straightened at that, stung.

"By your order, Minister," each murmured.

"You have your orders." Kuvak told them and motioned for the feed to be cut. "Please get me Captain T'Pirr," he asked.

"Julio, make sure we mark those five as friendly," Trip ordered then turned to Kron. "Kill the rest."

"Yes, milord!" Kron smiled and immediately _Reaper_ began to rock and roll with increased fire from her guns and launchers. On the screen three of the Vulcan ships that had refused to comply disappeared in balls of fire. Kuvak turned to look at Trip.

"You have acted with such restraint?" he asked.

"For you," Trip nodded. "Because of your son."

"Not your _aduna_?" Kuvak raised an eyebrow as T'Pirr appeared on screen.

"My _aduna_ knows that whatever she asks of me will be done," Trip shrugged and felt another wave of warmth roll over him from T'Pol. He smiled and winked at her.

"Fascinating," Kuvak turned to the screen.

"Five more ships are now yours to command, Captain," he said at once. "Your orders are to destroy the enemies of Vulcan. It is regrettable but necessary."

"It will be done," T'Pirr nodded and the screen went blank. Even as the now loyal Vulcan ships began to coordinate, fire lashed out from _Reaper_ again and two more Vulcan ships, _D'Kyr_ class cruisers, crumpled in on themselves then exploded in a flash of destruction.

"I see again where my son's confidence comes from," Kuvak intoned. "You could rule the quadrant with ships such as these."

"Guess so," Trip nodded absently, looking at the PADD in his hands. "Not really my goal, though," he added. "Not much of a ruler, really. Just want Earth to be safe and to make sure that the slave trade is ended. And that the Romulans can't rule the quadrant."

"I do not believe that will be an issue, now," Kuvak nodded gravely. "Many will fear you being in control of such power as this," he ventured warily. Cold blue eyes fell upon him as Trip gave the Minister his undivided attention.

"Good," he said simply.

STE

"How we doing?" Cox asked. He could feel himself failing, but continued to draw on his symbiot. He had a little bit left.

"We're gaining ground," Bats promised. "How you making it?" she asked softly.

"I'm almost done," he told her.

"How far to this monastery or whatever?" she turned to T'Pau.

"Over this ridge, and into the canyon," the 'girl' gasped. "Once there we must follow the canyon. The monastery is set into the canyon wall at the end of a box canyon."

"Can you make it?" she asked Cox. He shook his head.

"Probably not, but that doesn't matter," he gasped out. "Long as they make it, it's all good."

"I'm not leaving you behind," Bats said flatly.

"You'll follow your damn orders, soldier," Cox shot back. "For all we know we're all that's left. If we are, then their sacrifice can't have been for nothing." Batelli's face darkened at that but she nodded, not wanting to force Cox to waste more energy talking to her.

They made it to the top of the ridge before Cox finally staggered. Batelli was right behind him and caught Archer as Cox went down. Lowering the unconscious Commodore to the ground she checked Cox.

"Is he dead?" T'Pau asked softly.

"No, he's. . .he's just exhausted, that's all," she shook her head. "The two of you take Archer and head down. I'll be close behind. Move!" she shouted when T'Pau hesitated. As the two Vulcan women moved, Batelli grabbed Cox by his web gear and pulled him into a small rock alcove, hiding him beneath a poncho and pulling the tab from his 'find me'. It was all she had time for.

She caught up to the Vulcans half-way down the ridge and hoisted Archer on her own shoulders, ignoring the Vulcan women's protests.

"Move!" she ordered sternly. "Lead the way and get the lead out!" T'Pau could not believe that any human woman could carry a full grown man, not in these conditions. She hesitated.

"Ma'am, if you don't move, I'll shoot you and leave you here," Batelli growled. "I can't have you captured and telling the enemy where we're going. My number one marching order is that Archer lives. You're second. I can probably get by without you," she said frankly. "Now move your ass!"

T'Pau moved, stumbling slightly but righting herself. Batelli followed, with T'Les bringing up the rear.

It was growing dusky when they reached the desert floor, and it was cooler.

The three women hurried on, well aware that they had precious little time.

STE

"We may be gaining a little," Hunter noted, studying the tracks in front of him as he jogged along.

"Take. . .your word. . .for it," Hayes puffed out. _Damn these guys are in good shape_ , he thought to himself. Two of his men had already fallen behind. Cole and Wilcox were still with him but obviously struggling as much as he was.

"Try and save your energy," Hunter suggested. He had to hand it to Hayes. He was tough, and so were the rest of his people. Most normal humans would have long since fell out.

Hayes shot him a bird and Hunter laughed, admiring his attitude. They all had to be hurting but were still here, still moving.

"We do not have to pursue," Vuul said finally. "Dark is falling and there is a quicker way to our destination."

"What if they don't make it?" Hunter shook his head. "We can't afford to take the chance we'll pass them up."

"May I suggest that we send one of my men ahead, then?" Vuul replied. "He can warn them that _Eshikh Svai-tor_ approaches and will require assistance."

"And Archer," Hunter added. "He's going to need a priest according to T'Pau. He's carrying something important. And his survival is a requirement that I cannot stress enough," he added.

'Vuul' was no fool. He knew that while this man looked human, he most certainly was not. Not entirely.

"It will be so," he promised. He turned and briefed one of his men quicky. The man nodded once and then was gone, running away at an angle toward the ridgeline to their southeast. At least Hayes thought it was southeast. In the Forge who the hell knew? He looked at Cole who nodded. Vuul had stressed Archer's dilemma and the import of his survival.

"I don't think T'Pau will agree to anything that harms him," Hunter said aloud. "The two of them seemed to be getting along pretty well."

"Are we. . .talking. . .about the. . .same. . .man?" Cole gasped out, running alongside still.

"Save your breath," Hunter ordered. "And yeah, I know," he added. "Still, the two of them seemed to be bonding a bit."

"What?" Vuul almost stumbled at that, looking at Hunter. "What did you say?"

"I said they seemed to be bonding some," Hunter repeated. "You know, getting along. Cooperating?"

"Means. . .something diff. . .ferent. . .to a. . .Vulcan," Cole managed to gasp out.

"Oh, my bad," Hunter shrugged. "I just meant that the two of them were getting along okay. Archer doesn't really like the Vulcans he's met so far for the most part. Of course, consider that V'Las is one of 'em," he added.

"Indeed," Vuul nodded his understanding.

"We need to pick up the pace," Hunter said.

"No. . .way. . .we can. . .do that," Hayes hated to admit.

"I know," Hunter nodded. "Leave one man with them, Mister Vuul?" he asked. "Rest of us can move ahead?" Just then a monitor on his gear beeped.

"Damn it!" he swore, ripping the tablet from his vest. "Cox's 'find me' is lit!"

"What?" Rey looked stunned.

"Change of plans," Hunter said suddenly, looking at Hayes. "One of my men is down. He's not dead or the tab would be red instead of orange." He paused for a minute. He hated to trust anyone with his secret, but Hayes and his people seemed okay. He halted suddenly. Hayes and his remaining people immediately heaved over, gasping for air in the Forge's harsh environment.

"Can I trust you Hayes?" Hunter asked.

"Depends, I guess," Hayes shrugged, or tried to.

"Good answer," Hunter smiled. "My man is. . .special. He's done something that we normally wouldn't do, probably carrying Archer and running to get away from Skon, but he may also be injured. You're a medic, right?" he looked at Cole, who nodded.

"You carry blood?" he asked.

"Yes," she nodded. "We all do. One pint per man."

"My man's going to need blood," Hunter told Hayes. "Doesn't matter what type. Don't ask a question you don't want the answer to," he added when Hayes started to object. "I _have_ to find Archer. Lord Grim was firm that no harm come to him. Period. Find my man," he thrust the scanner into Hayes' hand. "Find him, and give him a pint of blood. Don't worry about type, like I said it won't matter." He paused again.

"I just trusted you with something so secret I should probably kill you for knowing it," he admitted. "Please, don't make me regret it."

Hayes studied the man for a minute, mind racing. What he hell was this?

"Are you augments?" he asked carefully. Hunter laughed.

"Not even close," he promised. "Will you do what I ask?"

"Yes," Hayes made his decision quickly. "Find Archer and the girl and keep them safe. We can't keep up, but we can find your man and protect him. It will be dark soon."

Hunter nodded his thanks and looked at his men.

"You know what you have to do," he told them. "Mister Vuul," he looked at the Vulcan, "if you can't keep up, don't step up. If you fall behind, you'll have to point us in the right direction. Let's move."

Faster than Hayes could believe the four took off in pursuit of Skon, Vuul and his Vulcans now struggling to keep up. One man, known only as Skura, stayed behind.

" _Sehlats_ , _le-matya_ , come with dark," he warned in broken English. "Must find quickly," he pointed to the scanner.

"Let's get it, then," Hayes nodded and forced his protesting legs and lungs to work again. He was going to have to ask Hunter how the hell he did this later.

Assuming his lungs didn't explode.

STE

"Resistance has ended for the most part," Kron reported. "There are still five enemy ships that have not surrendered or been destroyed, but they have ceased to offer resistance. I do not believe they are capable of it any longer, milord."

"Hail 'em, Julio," Trip ordered. "And order T'Pirr to cease fire," he added. "I assume that's okay with you?" he asked Kuvak.

"Any life saved is always 'okay' with me, Captain," Kuvak nodded gratefully. "Thank you." Trip just nodded.

" _Adun_ , there are new ships approaching," T'Pol said calmly. "From the profile and direction, I suspect they are Andorian," she added. Trip sighed.

"I was afraid of that," he said. "Julio, let Minister Kuvak deal with the Vulcans while you try and raise Shran for me. _Aduna_ , please contact _Charon_ and tell them to maintain their ESM for now but be ready to reveal themselves on my order, and then keep the line open. Dru'hak?"

"Shields at sixty-eight percent and charging. Hull polarity at eight-five percent and holding. Light damage to outer hull in three places, but there are no breaches," the Klingon XO rattled off. "We have one weapons pod offline due to a power fluctuation, which is being repaired as we speak. One tube is down though repairs are ongoing. Magazines are at seventy-one percent and reloading is already under way. We are battle worthy in all respects, milord."

"Excellent," Trip nodded. "Looks like we may have to kill some Andorians after all," he sighed. "Kron, if the _Kumari_ is among them mark her as friendly even if he shoots at us. I owe him."

"It will be done, milord," Kron nodded. They all owed Shran.

"Tana, do you want a relief?" he asked gently. The young Andorian woman shook her head.

"No, my lord," she said firmly. "This is my place." Trip smiled and nodded at her.

"Thirty-four Andorian cruisers _Adun_ ," T'Pol reported. "Approximately fifteen minutes away and closing. Quickly," she added.

"Minister, what's the verdict?" Trip asked.

"Shuttles are conducting rescue operations," Kuvak reported. "Many ships will have to be scuttled if we are forced to withdraw now."

"They may be beyond saving anyway," Trip pointed out. "Suggest that you gather surviving personnel on your travel worthy vessels and scuttle those unable to move under their own power. Use disruptor fire destroy the hulks if you need to. We're going to have to move to place ourselves between the survivors and the Andorians."

"Why would you risk yourself to protect our ships and personnel when many of them were just shooting at you?" Kuvak asked. "It is illogical."

"I get that a lot," Trip nodded. "Jerry, get us movin'."

STE

"There," T'Pau pointed. Batelli followed her point and saw a light in the distance that looked as if it were part of the mountain.

"How long?" she gasped. She was nearing the end of her rope, too.

"Five, perhaps ten minutes," T'Pau replied. "We can rest if you-"

"Negative," Batelli shook her head. "If I stop, I'm done for. As it is I'll be lucky to make it. Keep moving." Batelli drew on her own symbiot as she kept her pace up.

"You are destroying yourself," T'Les noted.

"I'll be fine in the long run," Batelli assured her. "Now stop wasting your breath and lets move."

T'Pau led the way, still cradling the urn. All of this for so small a thing, she thought to herself. Syrran had given his life in pursuit of this small vessel. Jonathon Archer might yet give his own trying to help her complete Syrran's life work.

He was an enigma to her still, though she felt a connection to him she could not understand. While he had accepted the duty of her _en'arh'at_ , there had been no bond established between them. No mind meld. And how would Archer respond to such a thing, anyway? Could she even establish such a bond with a human? She had no information on such a thing.

And even if she could would he want that? He had promised to protect her, to watch over her, but that did not mean he would respond favorably to being bonded to an adolescent Vulcan. Especially one with as much emotional baggage as she possessed. T'Pau was highly intelligent and knew that she was not so emotionally healthy as most Vulcans who had enjoyed a traditional upbringing. Being her guardian would be no easy task for a Vulcan. She could not imagine it would be anything but more difficult for a human.

Still, Syrran had told her that Archer was someone she could trust. T'Pau had known little of trust in her short life. Syrran and a few others, all gone now save for a single priest at her destination and the glowing essence of Syrran present in Archer. An essence soon to be placed in an arc and lost to her forever. There would be no more lessons from Syrran. No more advice. She would have to make her own way unless Archer had meant it when he promised to be her new _en'arh'at_.

Syrran had said she must teach him not to hate Vulcans. Archer did not seem as if he hated her, nor even T'Les though he apparently had every right to despise the older woman. Though he had understood the need, Syrran had not been overly pleased at what T'Les had tried to do, considering it dishonorable. He had acknowledged that the needs of the many outweighed the needs of the few, but had been conflicted at the need. T'Pau understood that conflict. She felt it herself and had wondered, more than once, had it been necessary for Syrran to sacrifice _her_ in some manner would he have done so.

She could not help but think that this was something Jonathon Archer would never do. Even consider. Syrran might have, Surak might have, but _not_ Archer.

And that realization filled her with a hope she had never allowed herself to feel until that moment.

STE

"Andorians are dropping out of warp," T'Pol announced calmly.

"Shran for you, milord," Julio announced as Shran appeared on the screen.

"Tucker, I have argued against this, but I am not in command," he said at once.

"Better let me talk to your commander then, I guess," Trip said easily. "Just so you know, your ship is marked as friendly. No matter what you have to do, Shran." The Andorian's antennae fell at that.

"Thank you, friend Pinkskin Tucker," he nodded. "My commander, General Thraan," he reported as an older, somewhat larger Andorian appeared on the split screen.

"You are human," Thraan said at once. "You have no business here."

"I'm really not," Trip smiled. "And I go where I please, General. Right now it pleases me to be here."

"I suggest you remove yourself, human," Thraan demanded. "We have business with Vulcans this day."

"You really don't," Trip shook his head. "I've already took care of that, as you can see. There won't be any attack by Vulcan ships on Andoria. Note I say 'ships' and not 'Vulcan'. These ships were issued illegal orders and followed them in good faith. Those who refused to follow orders from a higher authority have been. . .dealt with," he settled for saying.

"Dealt with?" Thraan's antennae gesticulated wildly.

"Destroyed," Trip clarified. "Those ships loyal to Vulcan, by which I mean those who prevented the attack, are conducting rescue operations now. Some of the crews tried to stop their Captains but weren't successful. Soon as they're done, we'll be leavin' your neck o' the woods."

"No Vulcan ships will leave here, human," Thraan snarled. "I will see to that."

"General," Trip leaned forward. "I'm tryin' to be nice to you. Kinda like your people, to be honest. But there's more at work here than just what you want. This was a plot by the Romulans to pit you and Vulcan against each other, hopin' you'd destroy each other. Was that to happen, then they would scoop in and gobble up what was left of you easy as pie. Can't let that happen."

"You do not dictate to me, human!" Thraan bristled.

"General, I know which ship you're on," Trip warned. "If any of your ships fire so much as a single shot in this direction, I'll destroy your ship and everyone on it. Some would add 'I'd hate to do it', but I won't bother. Fact is I enjoy that kind of thing, probably entirely too much. Lately I been mostly killin' Orions cause I hate slavers, but when it boils right down to it, I can kill pretty much anybody and be okay with it. That includes you."

"You're threatening me?" Thraan looked incredulous. "With one ship?"

"My one ship just destroyed over a dozen Vulcan cruisers all by her lonesome," Trip told him. "I figure I can destroy your ship, too."

"There are three times that many Andorian ships here, human," Thraan.

"Well, I managed to fight off something like twenty-nine Vulcan cruisers alone, first off," Trip smiled. "And second, I'm not exactly alone."

"The Vulcan ships are all damaged," Thraan snorted. "Easy kills."

"Oh I don't mean them," Trip smiled again. "Captain Meadows, if you will." Trip smiled as alarms began wailing behind Thraan and Andorians could be seen running to and fro on his bridge.

 _Charon_ shimmered into existence, her cloaking and ECM disengaged, revealing her position _behind_ the Andorian fleet.

"Captain," Meadows cultured voice sounded almost melodious. "We are weapons hot, ready to engage."

Thraan's face was almost purple with rage. He had monitored the battle from his position on the far side of the nebula and moved in expecting to collect kills on the surviving Vulcan ships, carrying a great victory back with him.

"Firing on my ships would be an act of war," Thraan said. "I do not think Earth wants a war with Andoria."

"Couldn't tell ya to be honest," Trip shrugged. "I ain't from Earth. Don't represent 'em, neither. I do protect 'em though, so if you're thinkin' about attacking Earth, you should know that these are not my only ships. These are what I had laying around handy." He grew serious.

"Look, General, I don't want this. I not only don't want a war with you, I don't want one at all. We all face a far greater threat than each other. When they come, the Romulans will be after us all. Our only chance, well, _your_ only chance, is to be strong and work together. Attacking these Vulcan ships will only guarantee two things."

"What things?"

"First, you won't be in command no more cause I'll kill you," Trip said flatly. "Second, when the time comes, Andoria and Vulcan will both be too weak to stand alone and too stubborn and distrustful to stand together. Now that won't matter to you since you'll be dead, but I suspect you have family that you'd like to protect from the Romulans."

"So here's the deal," Trip leaned back again and crossed his legs. "You leave, you live. You stay and watch, you live. You open fire, you die. Those are your only options. And I assure you, Captain, I don't bother bluffin'. My ships are more than capable of taking your fleet down. Don't make me prove it. Tucker out." He made a slashing motion and the screen went back to just Shran.

"Shran, take care," Trip smiled. "Whatever happens, you'll be fine."

"I tried, Tucker," Shran said sadly. "I really did."

"Better talk to him, then," Trip shrugged. "I'll kill him first and give the rest a chance to withdraw. 'Bout the best I can do for an old friend," he smiled and Shran threw back his head laughing.

"I'll take it," he replied. "Safe travels, Tucker." The screen grew dark then.

"Well, now we wait some more," Trip sighed. "I'm hungry. Anybody else hungry? Kron, you look hungry."

STE

"We are here," T'Pau said quietly, leading them inside a small doorway carved into solid rock that opened into a lobby of sorts. Batelli managed to make another dozens steps before she fell to one knee, completely spent.

"I'm about to go into sort of a coma," she warned, carefully lowering Archer to the ground with T'Pau and T'Les' help. "Move me somewhere out of the way and safe," she ordered. "Make sure that Commodore Archer lives." And with that her system shut down, strained to the breaking point by her exertion in getting Archer this far.

"Help me," T'Pau ordered and T'Les assisted in moving the human woman to the side of the entrance. T'Pau moved at once to Archer's side, thrusting the urn into T'Les' hands.

"We must get him help," T'Pau said.

"We are ready for him," a familiar voice said and T'Pau looked up to see a friendly face. T'Les faded into the shadows with the priceless urn.

"Savaan," she almost showed relief. "This human carries-"

"We know, child," the old priest said kindly, raising a hand. "We are prepared. Bring him," he ordered the two men beside him.

"I think not," another voice said from behind her and T'Pau turned to see Skon standing before her, flanked by five others, all with weapons drawn.

"You are not welcome here," Savaan said evenly. "Depart these grounds, or remain forever."

Skon's response was to raise his disruptor and fire at Savaan. One of the men beside him stepped before him at the last second, taking the shot meant for his leader.

"Invaders!" Savaan shouted and took cover. Suddenly the temple was a beehive of action as Vulcans came from every direction, swarming the outlaw commandos. Even as they converged on their invaders, black clad humans hit them from behind, tearing into the Romulans disguised as V'Shar agents. Skon managed to evade them all and moved to where T'Pau still hovered over Archer.

"You have caused us much trouble, girl," he said with a smile. "No longer." As he raised the disruptor, Archer's leg suddenly shot out and caught the hand holding it, sending the weapon flying.

T'Pau jumped to her feet only to catch a vicious backhand that sent her sprawling. Skon looked down at Archer, gasping for breath and fading into and out of consciousness and drew a thin bladed dagger from beneath his desert robe.

"Meddling human," he snarled. "I will put an end to your meddling here and now." He began to kneel, intending to draw the blade across the helpless human's throat.

" _No!_ " he heard from his left, but before he could turn to investigate he was struck from the side and sent bowling over Archer to land on his back with an enraged Vulcan female atop him.

"You shall _not_!" T'Pau screamed and her hands instantly found the _psi_ points on the side of Skon's face. Forcing her mind into his with training she had never thought to use in such a way, she found the commando's consciousness. He tried to fight, to throw her off, but T'Pau's mind controlled him now, and she froze his movements.

"You. Shall. Not." her voice was a whisper of raw fury. She began to mentally tear at Skon's consciousness, pulling and ripping at his very being with abilities that she had learned from her earliest days. Skon was strong, and normally she would have been no match for him, but seeing him threatening Archer had sent her into a rage that could only be caused when a Vulcan female saw a threat to someone she. . . .

Skon screamed. It was the only muscle movement he had any control over, so he used it. He screamed in terror, in despair, in rage, but most of all he screamed in pain as his very essence was slowly ripped to shreds by an enraged Vulcan expertly trained in the art of melding with another. Abilities meant to be used for healing, for bonding, for communicating, now used for the sole purpose of causing pain and suffering in her victim.

Skon screamed long after his men were dead, killed by the Vulcans of this temple who were most decidedly _not_ pacifistic in nature and by human soldiers that were not exactly human.

When he finally fell silent T'Pau remained where she was for several seconds, frozen in place. Moving in slow motion she fell away from the now catatonic Skon and struggled to Archer's side. She fixed her hand to the points of his face, her own face a mask of determination. Finally she looked up to see Savaan staring at her, eyes wide.

"Help him," she commanded before her eyes rolled back into her head and she collapsed on the floor beside him.


	19. Chapter 19

_Writer owns no part of Startrek, including the Enterprise franchise. He writes this solely for his own entertainment and that of others and receives no money of any kind for all his back-breaking labor. Thank you for not suing. LLAP_

Chapter Nineteen

" _Adun_ , the Andorian ships are moving," T'Pol said softly. Fifteen minutes of standoff had passed as the Vulcans continued rescue and recovery operations behind him. _Charon_ remained on station behind the Andorian fleet, placing the Andorian cruisers between the fire of two of the massive ships.

Trip nodded, chewing on a large bite of roast beef sandwich.

"Wha' 'hey do in?" he asked.

"Please do not speak with your mouth full, _adun_ ," T'Pol chided gently. Trip shot her an exasperated look as several chuckles rose from around the bridge along with a nasty Klingon snicker from Dru'hak.

"What are they doing," he asked again once he'd swallowed his food, speaking very deliberately.

"They appear to be turning, reforming," she replied.

"We're being hailed," Julio called. Thraan appeared on the screen, looking somewhat less belligerent for some reason.

"Captain Tucker," his voice was strained. "I have had time to review the facts of this incident, and while I am in no way disposed to think good of any Vulcan, it is apparent that at least some of them have acted in good faith with regard to the treaty between us. Further, I see that we owe _you_ a debt of thanks for interposing yourself between them and us. Had such a fleet caught us unaware, the damage would have been devastating to our people. You have the thanks of Andoria for that."

"Thank you, General," Trip nodded. "I appreciate that. And to tell you the truth, save for a couple of 'em, one of whom I'm married to, I don't really look favorably at Vulcans myself so I can understand your feelings on that point." Thraan looked puzzled.

"Your wife is Vulcan?" he asked, clearly stunned. Trip held out his hand and T'Pol walked to him, taking the hand and standing by his side.

"My wife T'Pol, General," Trip smiled.

"Sub-Commander T'Pol?" Thraan's face showed recognition.

"Formerly," T'Pol nodded regally.

"Then we are doubly in your debt, Tucker," Thraan bowed his head slightly. "You have stood against your wife's people to prevent an attack on Andoria," he continued. "Such is. . .I apologize for my mis-judgement of you, Captain Tucker," Thraan said suddenly. "And I again offer my thanks on behalf of my people."

"You're quite welcome, sir," Trip felt magnanimous. "I really do admire your people, General, and consider many of them friends."

"So I am told," Thraan nodded. "There will be no confrontation between us, Captain," Thraan said formally. "Commander Shran will remain to monitor the situation on our behalf while the rest of us return to our own territory. Despite our initial adversity, it has been a pleasure to meet you, Tucker. I hope we can someday meet again in a less adversarial setting, and perhaps share an ale," he smiled.

"I look forward to that sir," Trip nodded. "I do enjoy a good stiff drink when I can get it," he smiled.

"Well spoken," Thraan laughed this time. "Farewell, Tucker, and we thank you." The screen went dark and soon only one Andorian cruiser remained.

"Shran for you, sir," Julio reported as the Andorian's face popped up on screen.

"Well Shran, looks like we're still friends all around," Trip smiled.

"He is not an unreasonable man," Shran nodded. "He was angry, and justifiably so, but he was not beyond reason. Especially after reviewing the sensor logs of the _Kumari_ from our time in the Expanse," he added with a grin, antennae waving.

"Wondered about the sudden change of heart," Trip admitted.

"I believe he would have done the same without it, to be fair," Shran shrugged. "But it never hurts to stack the deck in one's favor," he grinned.

"So it don't," Trip laughed. "Shran, you take care now, okay?"

"Be well, Tucker," Shran offered. "And congratulations to you and your wife." The screen went dark once more.

"Minister, I think it's time we returned to Vulcan," Trip looked at Kuvak. "I can have _Charon_ stand by here in case Thraan changes his mind, but I think you need to be back on Vulcan."

"Indeed," Kuvak's face was hard. "There is much that needs be done."

"Julio, get me Captain Meadows."

STE

Malcolm Reed looked at the screen before him with his face set hard.

"No, Captain, we will _not_ depart yet," he said firmly. "I realize that you are experiencing difficulties, and we sympathize with you over them. But we have over one hundred dead Earth personnel we are still recovering and we will not abandon our people. I doubt that you would do differently in our place. Your regard for your people is well known among us and we admire and respect that about you."

 _Don't lay it on too thick_ , he reminded himself.

"My orders are to see you out of Vulcan space, Commander," the Vulcan was stoic. "We grieve with thee over the loss of your personnel, but the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few."

"That is not our way, Captain," Malcolm replied calmly. "The absolute last thing I want, that Earth wants, is to be in any way confrontational with Vulcan or her people. We are here peaceably, having brought two of your people home and delivered two diplomats that were to enter into negotiations with your government. We were to await their return before departing. All of that was before our embassy was bombed."

"Now, we are supporting that embassy, providing material and personnel to them as they continue to tend the injured, repair damages, and investigate the incident. We will not abandon them."

"Commander, be reasonable," the Vulcan intoned. "You cannot hope to stand against us. You know this."

"As do you," Malcolm seized on that. "You know that the _Enterprise_ is no threat to you or your people. We are not a warship but an exploration vessel. Our armament is minimal, designed to defend the ship and not to attack others. There is no honor is attacking a vessel weaker than your own when it offers no aggression to you, Captain. Especially when engaged in operations such as ours."

The Vulcan's face actually showed a reaction to those words. His reply, whatever it might have been, was lost as another Vulcan appeared behind him, speaking quietly.

"Ships dropping out of warp, Commander," Ensign Evans reported quietly. "Many ships, Commander, at least two dozen."

"We must continue this another time, Commander," the Vulcan said and the screen went blank.

"Tactical alert!" Malcolm ordered. "Do not polarize plating or charge weapons but I want tubes loaded."

"Aye, sir," Parker replied.

"What are we doing, Commander?" Hoshi asked.

"Nothing," Malcolm replied. "We're doing absolutely nothing. We're going to imitate a hole in space and make sure that we aren't involved in any of this."

"Aye, Commander."

 _Where are you Commodore_? he thought to himself. _Where are you, where is Trip, and what the bloody hell is going on?_

"Ships are Vulcan, Commander," Evans reported seconds later. "Sir, several of them are part of the group that departed earlier."

"Any of them damaged?" he asked.

"Not that we can make out from here, sir," she shook her head after several seconds.

 _Then why have they returned_?

STE

Jonathon Archer felt as if he was swimming upward from a very deep hole in the ocean. It wasn't painful, just time consuming and foggy. He could hear voices in the distance and wondered where he was.

He had been. . .where had he been? A cave. Yes, he was in a cave and he met the people he'd been looking for. Syrran and T'Pau. Syrran had been killed, but had done something to him before passing, something that had left a fog on his brain at times. Gaps in his memory.

There was something he needed to do. _Had_ to do. A biological imperative, T'Pol would have called it. A drive to ensure something. But what? He had his mission, but this was more than just his mission. It was greater than that. Why the hell couldn't he remember?

He could remember being underground. A cave or a cavern, maybe? He couldn't be sure, it was spotty at best. He remembered walking with a young Vulcan woman. Had to be T'Pau. She had been helping him, supporting him. Since when did he allow a Vulcan to get that close to him anyway?"

She had been much stronger than she looked, managing to keep them both going for far longer than he'd imagined. Again his memory faded, replaced by that damnable fog. He could hear Vulcan in his mind, spoken around him, to him, _through_ him as a mediator. He'd been used as a conduit. A medium. There had been a presence in his mind, a smothering, pressing, overpowering possession of his mind it seemed at times. His body moved, his mouth spoke, but he wasn't responsible for that.

 _That was us, Jonathon Archer, and we offer our apologies to thee for thy discomfort_ , he heard suddenly. _Thou hast been a friend indeed to all Vulcan, and we cannot offer thee sufficient thanks for thy service to our people_.

 _It wasn't like I volunteered_ , he thought to himself. _Or would have, either_.

 _We know of thy dislike for us_ , he heard, a faint tinge of amusement present now. _We hope thy favor has been gained for us in these last hours, as we shall have need of thy help in the future._

 _Why the hell would I help you?_ he demanded. _You sure as hell never helped us._

 _We are aware of that because of our presence in thy mind,_ the voice sounded chagrined now. _We can but offer our sorrow that our children have fallen so far. It should not be so, Jonathon Archer. And it will not be in the future, but much depends upon you_.

 _Yeah? Like what?_

 _T'Pau is now in thy care. T'Pau is the future of Vulcan, Jonathon Archer. She does not know this, and is yet not ready for her place, but she will one day be ruler of Vulcan. It is for thee to prepare her for that day. To ensure that she is able to take her place among our people. She must learn that my way is not only that of peace, but also that of service. And that sometimes that service means that we must fight. We must protect_ , _cherish, shield_.

 _Let me show you_.

Jon felt his mind taken from him again as images of Vulcan, an ancient Vulcan long destroyed, flashed into existence in his mind's eye. A Vulcan rife with violence and turmoil.

He again saw through the eyes of one Vulcan the slow adoption of logic, the effort to reform their society into something less destructive.

And he saw those who refused to follow. He saw the conflict that followed between those who still allowed their emotions to run free and those who sought to control themselves and act with rational thought instead of irrational passion.

 _You see our need for logic, Jonathon Archer_ , the voice whispered. _You see the necessity of our restraint_.

 _Yes_ , he answered, almost against his will

He saw the eventual defeat of those who marched beneath the wings of the raptor. Their defiance even in defeat as they gather their survivors onto great ships that they might depart for a new home, swearing to return and bring with them a wave of destruction and rule over their brothers.

 _They have forgotten the threat of the Winged Ones_ , he heard a Vulcan voice rumble. _They have lost their fear of a return to the times of old. Because they lack that fear, they lack caution against such as V'Las. Syrran has worked to restore that which so many have lost or discarded. For that I am in his debt, as is all Vulcan._

 _What does this have to do with me?_ Archer demanded in thought. _I_ hate _Vulcan, and all_ things _Vulcan at that. You've never been anything but a curse on my existence. You hurt my father, you hurt my friends, you leave us to struggle in fear of extinction when you could have helped us. Why the hell should I care if you destroy yourselves? For that matter, why shouldn't I_ cheer _for it?_

 _All that is true, Jonathon Archer, we deny it not. Thou hast suffered at the hands of our children and we grieve with thee over thy loss. Could we change it, we would. Remember that what you hear is merely an essence, nothing more. I have been gone many centuries. T'Les was forced to act as she did because the landscape is so changed I could not recognize my own land._

 _But we must ask that you put this aside for the good of all. Prophecy states that the Winged Ones will return and bring with them a wave of destruction that will overtake all it touches. T'Pau is the hope to prevent that, and she must have thy help. I have seen in thy mind these Xindi, and I am ashamed that my people would leave their allies_ _to suffer such a fate. But from the mind of Syrran I learn that it was V'Las who gave those orders. I believe thou hast learned that he is no child of mine, Jonathon Archer_.

 _T'Pau, with your help, will make Vulcan what it should be. What it was meant to be. Savaan can help. He is the priest that will soon separate us. When he does, we shall part, you and I, and you shall know me no more. My time has long passed and I do not belong here._

 _But before I go, I leave with thee one last gift. I place in thee great faith, Jonathon Archer, to be more than thou hast desired. It is the nature of service that we must sacrifice our own desires to serve the betterment of others._

 _Farewell, human. I grieve the loss that we could not know each other in life as we have here._

Archer felt something pull at his consciousness, almost painful but not quite. He struggled to hold to him that which was being taken, but he wasn't strong enough to hold it.

As the essence of Surak and Syrran departed Archer felt his mind running at warp speed, information being effectively downloaded to his brain. Language, history, law. Why the hell was this happening to him?

 _Awake Jonathon Archer_ , he heard from far away. _Awaken and return to us, for thy presence is sorely needed_.

Sorely needed? Well that couldn't be good at all. But why was he sorely needed? He was tired. He suddenly couldn't remember when he'd last had a good night's sleep.

 _Why does he not awaken_? he heard a strangely familiar voice ask. Female. Vulcan. _Why does he not respond_? He knew that voice. It called to him for some reason that he didn't understand. His consciousness stirred within him and his mind prodded at him. Demanded that he respond to that voice.

 _We must accept that his burden was great_ , he heard a strange voice saying. Male, older, speaking in Vulcan his mind catalogued. Who was that?

 _It was not too great, he is strong_ , the female voice spoke again. _He must wake, Savaan. I cannot lose him_! That sounded like concern being spoken in Vulcan. How odd. He'd never heard a Vulcan sound concerned before. It was kind of funny. Trip would have thought that was hilarious. He missed Trip.

 _He smiles_ , someone else said. Jon could hear movement around him.

 _His consciousness remains then_ , the older male said, again in Vulcan. Since when can I speak Vulcan, he wondered. Or at least understand it.

 _Jonathon Archer you must return,_ that female Vulcan's voice. The one from before. He knew that _voice_. Why did he know that-

"T'Pau!" Archer sat straight up. "Where's T'Pau!"

"I am here, Jonathon Archer," he heard and turned to see the diminutive Vulcan woman looking at him with strained stoicism. "I feared that you were beyond our reach."

"Not hardly," he grinned. T'Pau kept her composure for perhaps another two seconds before collapsing into Archer, hugging him tightly to her as she tried to regain her emotional balance.

"Easy now," Archer whispered, returning her embrace. "All is well."

"How do you feel, Commodore?" Hayes asked.

"Like I've been rode hard and put away wet," Archer snorted, thinking of Trip. "For the Vulcans, I feel like I've been trampled by a _le-matya_ ," he added. In Vulcan.

"Holy shit," Hayes murmured. He looked at Cole.

"Was that-"

"Uh, yeah," she nodded, then hastily added, "sir."

"Commodore, welcome back," Jason Hunter

"Thanks," Archer nodded. "What the hell is going on?"

"Well, that's a bit of a story, and to be honest we right now have a lot more pressing business."

"Such as?" Archer stood gingerly, T'Pau supporting him carefully.

"Well, about half the Vulcan ships that headed for Andoria have returned, saying that they were ordered home by Minister Kuvak. They're refusing the orders of V'Las and the High Command. Those that remained in orbit are in a standoff with them. They are still following V'Las."

"How long was I out?" Jon looked around. "That's a lot to have happen. What happened to Skon and his merry men?"

"You've been unconscious for the better part of a day, sir," Hunter admitted. "A Vulcan day," he added. "Skon had a. . .mishap," he settled for saying. "The rest are dead, and Skon might as well be."

"Damn," Jon shook his head, trying to clear the fog away. "Well, what do we need to-" he stopped, frowning.

"Commodore?" Hayes looked concerned.

"I know what we have to do," Jon said gently, a light in his eye. He turned to Savaan.

"Surak told me you are one that I may count upon in my mission, Savaan of Vulcan. Did he speak true?" Jon asked in flawless Vulcan. T'Pau gasped aloud at that and all the humans, and human-ish, looked startled. Savaan did not.

"Surak always speaks true," he said simply. "The _Ozh-dukal t'T'Khasi_ stand ready to aid you, Archer of Earth and Vulcan."

"Say what?" Hayes looked totally confused now.

"It's not important at the moment," Jon shook his head. "What's important is that we take the _Kir'Shara_ and head for the High Command. We need all the Ministers of the High Council, as well."

"V'Las has ordered their arrest," T'Les offered, speaking for the first time.

"Then we must free them," Jon shrugged. "T'Les of Vulcan, Surak spoke of thee to me," he said suddenly in Vulcan. "He explained why you have acted as you have. While I cannot condone your acts, I do now understand the nature of what you have done. I see also that you acted as best you could with what you had to work with."

"Would that my daughter might be so understanding," T'Les sighed.

"I would not expect her to be understanding," Jon agreed. "But when I have spoken, she might be inclined to be forgiving."

"Her _adun_ will not be," T'Les observed.

"Not likely," Jon admitted in English. "But he _will_ go along with whatever T'Pol says," he added with a grin.

"Because she is Vulcan?" T'Les asked.

"Because he cherishes her," he corrected. "Now, we have work to do and we need help to do it."

STE

"Sir, it's Commodore Archer!" Hoshi exclaimed. "Voice only," she added. "Go ahead, sir."

"Malcolm, I understand the tension level is pretty high at the moment," Jon's voice crackled slightly.

 _And they say_ we _love understatement_ , Malcolm shook his head. _Bloody Yanks._

"That's one way to put it, sir," he settled for saying.

"It's about to get worse," Jon told him flatly. "And I need your help."

"Of course Commodore," Malcolm assured him

"Have Hess take command and move _Enterprise_ out of orbit," Archer ordered. "Bring Travis, the rest of the MACOs, and anyone else you think you can spare and come to the coordinates we're sending you." He looked at Hoshi who nodded.

"Come loaded for bear, Malcolm," Jon said seriously. "We're about to drop the hammer on the people responsible for the embassy bombing. Do you understand what I'm telling you?"

 _Bloody hell_!

"I certainly do, sir," Malcolm managed to keep his voice calm.

"Then come get us." The signal terminated and Malcolm turned to the tactical officer.

"Ensign, sound the alert for the MACO detachment to meet me in the shuttle bay along with Security Team Two."

"Sir," Evans said suddenly. "Permission to accompany the away team?" Reed looked at her.

"For what purpose?" he asked, puzzled.

"I have a love of old books, sir," Evans looked him dead in the eye. Malcolm almost started at that, but nodded.

"Very well. Permission granted." He hit the I/C. "Commander Hess to the Captain's ready room at once."

"May I speak with you, Commander?" Hoshi said carefully, not looking at Evans.

"Quickly," he nodded and motioned for the ready room. "Parker, you have the bridge. Travis, Evans, gather your gear and meet me in the shuttle bay."

"Aye Commander," the two replied in tandem.

"Come along, Lieutenant." Hoshi followed him into the ready room.

"I have a love of old books?" Hoshi said as soon as the door closed. "Are you freaking _kidding_ me? Could you _be_ any more obvious?"

"What?" Malcolm frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"It's obvious that you and Evans have something going and she's using that to get her way and join the away team!" Hoshi shot back.

"You're delusional, Lieutenant," Malcolm said stiffly. "And completely out of line. Not that I owe you any kind of explanation, but that phrase _happens_ to be _code_ ," he seethed. "She has intelligence that I may need and abilities I can use on planet. And I frankly resent the hell out of _any_ implication that I would act in any way unprofessional or unbecoming aboard _Enterprise_ , _particularly_ whilst in command!" Malcolm was working his way into a tantrum.

"This is what happens when I treat with junior officers as equals," he motioned between the two of them "I have allowed you and Travis especially great leeway because of our service in the Expanse together. That ends as of now, since you obviously cannot separate your personal issues from professional ones."

Hoshi's face was burning by now, both from her dressing down and from making an ass of herself with her assumption. She had allowed a small fit of jealousy to overwhelm her.

"I"m sorry, Commander," she said in a small voice. "I thought-"

"I don't _care_ what you bloody _thought_!" Malcolm all but snarled. "You are dis _missed_ , Lieutenant!" he barked as Hess rang the entrance buzzer.

"Yes sir," Hoshi nodded and stepped aside as Hess entered, then exited.

"What's going on?" Hess asked.

"I'm afraid it's a bit muddled," Malcolm sighed. "Here's the short story."

STE

"Commander, this is on the edge of the Forge," Travis noted as they set out from _Enterprise_ for the surface. Behind them _Enterprise_ broke orbit and began moving away from Vulcan.

"I'm aware of that, Lieutenant" Malcolm nodded. "We're to set down at these coordinates, off load, and then go and pick up the Commodore and his party here," he indicated another location.

"Sir that is _inside_ the Forge," Travis said uneasily. "That's a no-fly zone for a reason, sir."

"I'm sure that's why he asked for you," Malcolm smiled.

"Aye, Commander," Travis shook his head. It seemed much shorter than it was before they were landing at the designated location. Malcolm entered a command into the shuttlepod's transmitter and suddenly another ship appeared not far from them. A much larger shuttle. An _armed_ shuttle.

"That's what we'll be using to retrieve the Commodore," Malcolm told Travis. He turned to look at Evans.

"Would we be fortunate enough that you know how that beast operates?" he asked.

"Yes, Commander," Evans nodded. "I do."

"Outstanding," Malcolm nodded. Soon the two crews were assembled on the ground.

"Team Two will remain here and secure the pods," Malcolm ordered. "We may call at any time requesting you join on us, so be alert. Also, this part of Vulcan is decidedly unfriendly, so keep your eyes open. There are predators all about here, two legged and four. Get me?"

"Sir," the ensign in charge nodded. "We'll mind it."

"Sergeant," Malcolm looked at the MACO in charge of the second detachment. "Let's get aboard. Ensign, you'll assist Lieutenant Mayweather. This is our destination."

"Aye, sir," she nodded. Soon they were aboard the shuttle, noting that it was quite roomy.

"I really am going to have to see if Trip's hiring when this issue is decided," Malcolm shook his head.

Evans smiled where Reed couldn't see it.

STE

"There's our ride," Hunter noted as the shuttle came into view.

"So it is," Jon nodded. "We'll use it to transfer some of us to the pods and that should help us get enough people into-" he stopped as Hunter pressed his hand to his ear.

"Roger that _Reaper_ , this is Hunter. Package secure. We're about to mount an operation for the Commodore, however." Pause. "I'm sure he would welcome your assistance, sir," Hunter looked at Archer, who nodded. "Roger that sir. Sending transponder." Hunter hit a button on his tablet.

"Lord Grim will be here presently," Hunter informed them as the shuttle set down. "With three shuttles. There should be sufficient room to safely transport everyone."

"We'll need to be wary of any air defenses," Jon mused as Reed, Mayweather and the rest approached him.

"Hello, Commodore," Malcolm said as he and the others approached. "Bloody good to see you, sir, pardon the expression," he shook his commander's hand.

"Same here, Commander," Jon smiled. "We've had a small change of plans, Malcolm. Trip will be here shortly with some more assistance and transportation. After that, our mission is two-fold. We must free the members of the High Council, and then we're going to call on V'Las and terminate his command."

"With prejudice I hope?" Malcolm asked.

"With Trip involved I'd say that's a distinct possibility."

STE

"You'll be safer here, _aduna_ ," Trip said evenly.

"I am going," T'Pol said just as evenly and Trip fought a sigh.

The ride home had allowed the two of them some much needed personal time and they had taken full advantage of it. Whatever his symbiot had done, Trip and T'Pol were tied together at a level that was almost scary. Each experienced what the other experienced. When they were alone, 'bonding', that experience was simply echoed one to the other until they could no longer separate themselves from each other. It was enough to leave Trip light headed and T'Pol semi-conscious.

"Very well," he sighed. "Get fitted and hurry it up." She nodded and went with Dru'hak to the QM's office. If he hurried, he could be gone before-

"If you were to depart without me I would be. . .annoyed," T'Pol said over her shoulder.

Dammit. He was tired of that.

"Wouldn't dream of it, dear," he smiled.

"Yes, you would."

"Vulcan women can be. . .difficult, Captain," Kuvak actually looked humored.

"I'm learning that Minister," Trip nodded. "We're apparently going to rescue your comrades and then take down V'Las. You up for that?"

"Oh yes," Kuvak nodded. "I am indeed."

Fifteen minutes later Trip and his contingent of 'special' human soldiers were on their way to 'see a Vulcan about a _sehlat_ '.

It took most of the journey down for Trip to explain what he meant by that.

STE

"Well, you look like shit," Trip said when he approached Jon.

"You know, we have to stop meeting like this," Jon grinned. "Every time I get beat up, there you are."

"It's a gift," Trip shrugged. "So what are we doing, Commodore? This looks like your show."

"Minister," Jon nodded. "We're about to terminate V'Las' position in the Vulcan government and place you and the other Ministers of the High Council back where they belong. Does that suit you?"

"Indeed," Kuvak nodded.

"T'Pol," T'Les nodded at her daughter. T'Pol returned the nod but did not speak. T'Les did not allow her disappointment to show.

"We need to free the other Ministers first," Jon noted. "Any idea where V'Las would hold them?"

"Yes," T'Pau nodded. "I can show you," she said hesitantly.

"You can?" Jon looked at her questioningly.

"I learned it by accident from Skon," T'Pau settled for saying.

"Then show us there and let's get this underway."


	20. Chapter 20

_Once more as I regale you with tales of daring do, I remind you that this is a work of fan appreciation and nothing more. No money is made from this endeavor and no copyright infringement is intended. I do not own Startrek;Enterprise nor any of it's parent or subsidiary companies. Man, that's a mouthful._

 **STE STE STE STE STE**

 **Chapter Twenty**

The Ministers of the High Council were being held in a small villa under 'protective custody', in the care of two dozen V'Shar agents who were loyal only to V'Las and half of whom were actually Romulans.

It wasn't enough.

Trip now had Hunter's entire team, plus three additional personnel to guard T'Pol, T'Pau and Jonathon Archer. He didn't spare T'Les a glance much less a body guard, but then she didn't have to come along he figured. Same for Soval.

Savaan had included fifteen of his warrior monks as well, plus three more assigned to T'Pau and Archer's protection. That conflicted with Hunter's people until a quick test of strength had showed the Vulcans that the 'inferior' humans would probably do just fine.

The Villa was in the city center, a prison in plain sight. There were no heavy weapons since there was no possibility of an air threat.

Unless you had Travis Mayweather flying for you.

STE

"One minute, sir," Travis called out. He was flying the shuttle that Trip had left for Jon and Hunter to use, with Evans next to him.

"Roger that," Hunter replied. He was in charge of this mission with Reed as his second in command. Hayes was holding with Archer commanding the second unit for backup.

"We're about to go hot, people," he told the collection of his own people, MACOs and Vulcans. "We're off first, let us take the brunt of the assault since we're geared for it," he continued. "Sergeant, you and Mister Vuul will pair your people off and locate the Ministers. Kill anyone who gets in the way."

"Sir," Cole replied while Vuul nodded.

"Me?" Reed asked. Hunter caught Evans' head shake and looked at the Commander.

"Hold the shuttle with two men," he ordered. "Won't do us any good to free them if we can't get them out of here. Don't let them take our ride away."

"Very well," Malcolm didn't bristle but it was a struggle. He didn't come all this bloody way to end up on the sidelines. He looked at Evans.

"Do I have you to thank for that?" he asked and she looked at him cooly.

"I don't know what you mean, Commander," her reply was calm. Too calm.

"I assumed as much," Malcolm almost swore.

"You have friends in very high places, Commander," Evans shrugged. "People who are concerned about you. Be flattered."

"Bite me," Malcolm murmured and Evans snorted in laughter.

"Heading in!" Travis called, focusing everyone once again. The shuttle dipped and dived for an interior courtyard surrounded by high walls. Vulcans on the wall began firing at the shuttle and the two men manning the weapons systems returned that fire. The shuttle set down lightly without damage.

"Clock's bloody running!" Hunter shouted. "Make it count!" then he was off the ship and moving, the rest following.

Behind him Malcolm Reed sat stunned by what he'd just heard. Where the hell did Jason Hunter hear that?

STE

Unaware that Malcolm might have just learned something important, Hunter ran into the courtyard shooting the first Vulcan he saw holding a weapon. Their intel was that the Ministers had not been allowed any staff, so everyone who was armed should be an enemy.

Hunter and five of his own team held the courtyard while Cole and the Vulcans made their way for the rooms where the Ministers were being held. It was a textbook operation.

That did not mean it was without losses.

STE

"Man down!" Wilcox called. "We've got a ma-" his call cut off abruptly.

"Dammit," Reed swore to himself. He'd known Wilcox since the Expanse. He tensed at the shuttle door.

"Commander, your place is here," Evans reminded him.

" _Your_ place is not to tell me _my_ place, _Ensign_ ," Reed all but hissed. Suddenly enraged Reed slammed his way off the shuttle and into the fray.

"Son-of-a-," Evans exclaimed, caught by surprise. "Hunter, Reed is active!"

"On his own!" Hunter called back. "Fully engaged!" Evans swore again and grabbed her own rifle.

"Where are you going?" Travis demanded.

"After the Commander before he gets himself killed!" she snarled and bailed out, leaving Travis and the two men guarding the shuttle looking at each other.

Malcolm ran toward the set of stairs he'd seen Wilcox taking, bounding up them two at the time. As he neared the landing he could see green blood on the top four steps. Not knowing if it was Vulcan or Romulan, Reed slowed, his phase rifle up and ready.

As he took the last three steps he saw a V'Shar trooper standing over Wilcox, rifle aimed at the downed MACO's head. Without the need for conscious thought Reed slammed his rifle into this shoulder and opened fire, the beam from his rifle taking the Romulan in the side of the head and creating what Reed would later describe as 'a bloody mess'.

Malcolm made his way onto the landing and to Wilcox, checking for a pulse. It was thready but there. He moved to the now visible Vulcan partner Wilcox had been assigned, but he was gone. A hole was burned into the man's chest.

"Commander!" he turned at the hiss to see Evans at the top of the stairs, holding a phase rifle of her own.

"I'll deal with you _lay-tah_ ," Reed snarled. "Get this man to the shuttle," he pointed at Wilcox.

"I'm supposed to-"

" _You're bloody well supposed to do what I tell you_!" Malcolm snarled again, incensed. "Now follow your damned orders." With that he ignored the meddling Ensign, who he knew now probably _wasn't_ actually an Ensign, and turned to examine the layout before him.

He knew from the briefing that Wilcox and his partner were supposed to free Minister Subat, Soval's boss. According to intel Soval had been able to get after T'Pau's surprising revelation, Malcolm knew roughly where the Minister was supposed to be.

Leaving Evans behind, Malcolm moved across the landing and halted just outside an open door. He did a rapid scan of the room but found it empty. Good. This was supposed to be where the Minister of Financial Concern, or some Vulcan nonsense, was housed and he was already free. He crouched as he ran to the next door, Subat's, which was still closed.

He hadn't seen anyone in the other room, alive or dead. That could mean that there were no troops with the Ministers in their individuals rooms. He'd have to chance it since time was running out. Reaching up he carefully keyed the latch and pushed the door open.

A wooden chair disintegrated against the opening door and Malcolm pulled back, narrowly missing being hit in the head by a chair leg.

"Minister, I'm here to help!" Malcolm called out in UE standard English. He assumed that the Minister of Off World Concerns, or whatever the hell it was, would understand it.

"Who are you?" a voice demanded from within.

"Lieutenant Commander Malcolm Reed, sir, UE Starfleet, _Enterprise_ ," Malcolm replied as calmly as if he were ordering a beer. "Ambassador Soval sent us, sir." Not quite true, but close enough.

"Can we move?" the voice asked.

"Affirmative sir," Malcolm called back. "Are you able to go?"

In reply the tall Vulcan male exited the room in a crouch, looking Malcolm in the eye.

"While agreeable to see you Lieutenant Commander, I find it distressing that I must depend on off-world assistance to be rescued from my own people," he said easily.

"It _has_ been that kind of week, sir," Malcolm agreed. "And we're assisting your own people. Are you in any way injured?"

"I am not."

"Then follow me if you will, and keep low," Malcolm ordered. "We need to get down the stairs and across to the shuttle. By the sound of it we're still taking fire from some of the V'Shar." Without waiting for an answer Malcolm led the Minister back the way he had come, turning every few seconds to check on the man's progress. He needn't have worried. Subat would never be a young Vulcan again, but he was fit. And he was also bordering on being angry.

They reached the spot where Malcolm had found Wilcox. Red blood was still puddled there but Evans had apparently followed orders and taken Wilcox to the shuttle. Subat saw the downed Vulcan and began to move toward him, but Malcolm stopped him with an arm.

"He's gone, sir," he reported softly. "I'm sorry." Subat nodded but said nothing.

"Down the stairs if you please sir, and when we hit the courtyard head for the shuttle. Ramp is down on the far side so don't stop until you're safely aboard. I'll provide covering fire. Understand?"

"Completely," Subat nodded. Malcolm took the stairs one at a time going down, rifle constantly sweeping around as he searched for threats. At the bottom of the stairs he found a very angry Evans waiting, occasionally firing on V'Shar hold outs along the top of the wall.

"Why are you here?" Malcolm demanded.

"Because you are," she told him flatly. "Why the hell do you think I'm here?"

"Oh, I know why you were on _Enterprise_ ," Malcolm assured her. "I meant why are you _here_ , instead of on the shuttle!"

"Because. You. Are." Evans said again, slower this time as if speaking to a not overly bright child. "I told you, Commander, you have friends in very high places. Friends that do not want anything happening to you."

"Bloody hell," Malcolm swore softly. "Help me get the Minister to the shuttle, Ensign," he ordered.

"Of course, Commander," Evans smiled, though she'd really have rather slapped Malcolm's teeth out. She could understand his anger at being 'left out', but there was no point in taking it out on-

" _Down_!" Malcolm shoved Evans to the ground just as a disruptor beam passed through where her head had been. Before the V'Shar agent could fire again, Malcolm's rifle came up and he squeezed off a shot, taking the Romulan high in the chest, sending him pitching off the wall.

" _Move_!" Malcolm ordered as Evans looked at him, eyes wide. Scrambling to her feet she took Subat by the arm and practically pulled him to the shuttle while Malcolm covered them all.

 _Bloody Yanks_.

STE

"Your pacing will not bring the operation to a close any faster, Jonathon Archer," T'Pau said quietly.

"It won't slow it down any, either," Jon pointed out. "And it helps me pass the time."

"You should learn to meditate," T'Pau offered and his face contorted at that. He turned to snap out an angry retort that died on his lips as soon as he looked at her.

"Couldn't hurt, I guess," he shrugged instead. "Maybe one day you can teach me," he added.

"I would do so," she agreed, her tenseness leaving her at his gentle answer.

Soval watched the by-play between the two without comment, but his eyes rarely left them. It was apparent that there was some connection between the two, but he could not for the life of him see it.

He had heard the story of how Syrran had 'appointed' Archer as T'Pau's _en'arh'at_ seconds before his death, but Soval scoffed at the notion. Not only was it completely inappropriate for any offworlder, let alone a human, to serve as a guardian for a Vulcan, Archer of all people in the known universe was entirely the wrong person to consider the proper guardian of any Vulcan. More so a Vulcan practically hand chosen by Surak as the future leader of their people.

That choice still bothered Soval, though he would not allow it to show. He still remained unconvinced that Syrran had not been touched by madness. Yes, the priest Savaan of the _Ozh-dukal t'T'Khasi_ had verified that Archer had indeed been carrying the katra of Surak as well as Syrran, but that alone meant nothing.

"You saved my life you know," Archer was saying to T'Pau.

"You would have done so for me," T'Pau replied evenly.

"Yes," Jon nodded his agreement. "I know you're scared, T'Pau," he said gently. She looked at him but remained silent.

"It's all right," he assured her. "All will be well, T'Pau-kan, I promise. You are not alone, nor will you be. I give you my word," he continued in Vulcan.

Across the shuttle Soval's eyebrow practically disappeared into his hairline. When had Archer learned to speak Vulcan?

"I know," T'Pau nodded. "I do not know _how_ I know, just that I do. I have not trusted many in my life, Jonathon Archer, but I do trust you. I know that you will do what you say. And I am not afraid." She stood slowly, her head coming just to his chest. He embraced her and she returned it, trying to hide herself in his greater bulk. He could feel her shudder slightly and realized that she might be crying.

"Really Commodore, this is most inappropriate," Soval couldn't stand anymore. Archer never moved, feeling that T'Pau's need for him was greater than his own need to slap Soval.

Ignored, the older Vulcan rose to his feet intending to intervene in this public emotional display only to find himself facing Hayes, a grim look on the MACO's face.

"Sit. Down." he said so quietly that only the Ambassador could hear. It took Soval roughly two seconds to realize that Hayes would take great pleasure in shooting him.

He sat. He would deal with this issue at a later date.

STE

"Status!" Hunter called.

"One Minister unaccounted for, sir," Travis reported at once.

"No he's not," Evans reported as she stuffed Subat aboard.

"All packages secure sir," Travis said immediately.

"Recall!" Hunter called out and his men began to leapfrog their way to the shuttle. Two were down and being carried. Cole was already working on Wilcox in the floor of the shuttle and another MACO's body was covered by a blanket. One of the Ministers was bleeding from a scalp wound that was more bloody than serious, while a second was cradling an obvious broken arm and a third had a possible concussion. All in all, they were extremely fortunate.

"Go, go, go!" Hunter was yelling as his men crammed aboard the shuttle, now precariously overloaded. The body of one MACO and three Vulcans littered the courtyard. The operation might have been a success, but it was not without cost.

"Go Travis!" Hunter called as he ran through the hatch and turned to secure it. A disruptor bolt followed him, striking him in the chest and throwing him across the compartment. Rey immediately grabbed the hatch and slammed it, dogging it down.

"Clean!" he shouted. Travis already had them moving and as he turned Evans opened fire with the shuttle's small phase cannon, eliminating the agent that had shot Hunter. For good measure she continued to fire until the shuttle cleared the courtyard and Travis had them on the way back to the rendevous point.

"How is he?" she called out, looking back at where Hunter as sprawled on the floor.

"Burned but okay, I think," Rey called out. "His armor took the worst of it, near as I can tell. Pulse is strong." She nodded and then turned back to her console.

"Nap of the Earth, Mister Mayweather," Reed reminded the pilot, assuming command.

"Aye Commander," he grinned broadly as the shuttle skimmed the rooftops around the 'villa', its speed increasing by the second.

Behind them V'Las' gilded cage lay burning, his wardens dead or dying.

STE

"Ministers it is gratifying to see you safe," Soval said as the freed High Council Members exited the shuttle.

"Soval, why was it necessary for us to be freed by offworlders?" Subat asked his subordinate. "That is not to say we are ungrateful for their assistance."

"We do not know who of the _V'Ket_ or _V'Kor_ we can safely depend upon," Soval admitted. "The members of the _Ozh-dukal t'T'Khasi_ lent their assistance to our allies in effecting your release."

"Colleagues, it is time that we end V'Las' influence upon our world," Kuvak said to the rest of them. "We have the means to do so at our command. While this is so, we must make use of it. The humans have offered us their assistance, despite evidence that V'Las was responsible for the attack upon their embassy. They have recently assisted us in preventing the outbreak of a war between Vulcan and Andoria, and now they have lent their blood to freeing you."

"Do not mistake this for the end, for even now our ships face each other in a stand off over our planet, those loyal to V'Las determined to obey his orders while those loyal to Vulcan recognize our authority over all matters Vulcan."

"And the _Kir'Shara_ of Surak, the original writings of the Father of Logic, has been located, again with assistance from our allies, the humans. Even now we possess the sacred texts of Surak himself. Not the perverted and twisted teachings that have been forced upon us but the _true_ writings of Surak."

"It is time that we returned to Surak, my colleagues, and that we return Vulcan to that which it should be. The _katra_ of Surak himself has deemed that we must remove V'Las from power. That one day we will have a new ruler over all Vulcan, but for now we will rule in that worthy's stead until that time comes."

"How do you know this, Kuvak?" the Minister with the broken arm asked. "Have you spoken to the _katra_ of Surak?"

"I have not," Kuvak replied. "While the _Kir'shara_ was being recovered I was assisting with the prevention of V'Las' orders to begin a war between Vulcan and Andoria. The _katra_ of Surak was carried by a human. This man, Jonathon Archer," Kuvak pointed to Archer, "carried the _katra_ himself and helped locate and protect the _Kir'Shara_. Priest Savaan of the _Ozh-dukal t'T'Khasi_ removed the _katra_ and placed it into an arc along with that of the _katra_ of Syrran. Syrran who many of us were led to believe was a criminal while he was in fact working to restore to us that which was taken by V'Las."

"And you should know, my fellow Ministers, that V'Las is in league with the _Rhihannsu_ , if not actually one of them himself. We cannot be sure of which until we obtain a sample of his DNA. Regardless of which it is however, V'Las is a traitor and must be dealt with as such." The Minister fell silent as his colleagues absorbed what they had been told.

"I find it distressing that our condition necessitated the inclusion of outsiders in what should have been entirely Vulcan affairs," the oldest of the Ministers, Minister of Education S'Kar rumbled in his flat baritone. "Having said that, we must offer our gratitude to them for their service to us, particularly when there was no requirement of duty that compelled them other than their honor."

"Agreed," Subat said at once, looking at Malcolm Reed. "And it is indeed high time that we end V'Las' reign. Have we no trustworthy forces of our own we can call upon?"

"The _Ozh-dukal t'T'Khasi_ are at your command, Minister," Savaan replied calmly. "We have always been loyal to Vulcan and her people."

"Your kind live at the edge of society and practice a style of living that is not proper for a Vulcan," a female Minister all but sniffed in disdain.

"We follow the way of Surak, Minister," Savaan corrected. "We follow it _fully_. We cherish that which should be cherished, and we protect it. Safe guard it. And we will continue to do so."

"Enough," Subat gave the woman the Vulcan equivalent of a glare. "It should be obvious that action must be taken. Decisive action. The fault for this is as much ours as that of V'Las because in our complacency, in our failure of duty, in our fear of his personal power, _we_ have allowed this to happen. Therefore _we_ must be the ones who set things right. It is our duty and our honor will accept no less."

STE

"Will they do nothing?" T'Pau asked gently, quietly from where she stood close by Archer's side.

"I don't know," Archer admitted. "It's irrelevant, however," he added, glancing at Trip who was starting to fidget.

"Why do you say that?" T'Pau asked.

"See that man over there?" he pointed. "The one with the Vulcan woman standing beside him?"

"She is the daughter of T'Les," T'Pau noted. "This is her human _adun_?" she asked.

"He is indeed, and he's had just about all of this he's going to take. Trip isn't long on patience and he's not above some gratuitous violence to get his point across, either."

"That does not sound like a proper mate for a Vulcan female," T'Pau observed.

"Keep in mind that he just prevented your fleet from beginning a war with Andoria," Jon pointed out. "Trip isn't the same man he used to be, I admit, but he does get things done."

"Trip," T'Pau let the name play off her tongue. "This is not a proper name for a male."

"Well, it's what we call a nick name," Jon explained. "Nicknames are a sign of familiarity among our people, a closeness if you will. He's the third man in his family, his clan, to carry the name he was born with, so there's a three at the end of his full name. Triple means three in our language, so gradually he became known as Trip. But his followers call him Lord Grim."

"He is a Lord?"

"Well, not really," Jon replied. "At least not that I know if. It's an honorific, that's all. His followers are extremely loyal to him. And the name Grim is. . .well, it's another nick name. An unfortunate one in my opinion, but there's not much that would change it now."

"What does it mean, this 'Grim'?" she asked.

"It's a reference to an Earth legend of a figure of Death that comes to collect those who's time it is to die," Jon made it as clean as he could. "Grim Reaper. The name of his ship is _Reaper_. Reap means to harvest, which for us involved the cutting of the plant. The figure of the Grim Reaper carries a blade we call a scythe. A curved blade that is normally used to harvest grain."

"And what would this Reaper harvest?" T'Pau asked hesitantly.

"The dead."

STE

"This is stupid," Trip muttered as he and T'Pol stood apart from the group of Ministers.

"They do nothing without deliberation, _adun_ ," T'Pol noted.

"We just rescued them from V'Las' tender care," Trip shot back. "You'd think that would lead to a quick and easy discussion that V'Las has got to go!"

"One would indeed think that," T'Pol agreed. "They have allowed too much of their power to be taken for too long. Taking it back will require will power. And determination. Several of them will probably lack that determination."

"So they'll just leave it like it is?" Trip looked aghast. "All this has been for nothin'?"

"I do not believe that will be the case," T'Pol replied. "While some will lack the fortitude necessary for such an undertaking, I believe that Minister Kuvak is going to lead what you would call a 'revolt' regardless of the outcome of this discussion."

"Well, they better get the lead out before someone notices us all hangin' around here twiddlin' our thumbs."

"Indeed."

STE

"The time for debate has long passed us, my colleagues," Kuvak spoke just then. "We have had time and plenty to see and understand what is and has been happening to our world and our people. The time for action is at hand. I, for one, intend to put an end to the travesty that has come to be. I would find your support and assistance gratifying and helpful, but at this point do not consider it necessary for the success of my mission. To restore Vulcan to her rightful rule and remove the shadow that V'Las has cast upon our people and our home. So what say you?"

"You have my support," Subat said at once. "Soval is at times difficult but has ever been trustworthy and loyal to Vulcan. He is no traitor, regardless of the source of such an accusation. When we have reached the point that a Vulcan who has worked always for the betterment of his world and her people is considered a traitor, the it is indeed time to act."

"Agreed," S'Kar nodded gravely. "I am with you."

"It is not our place to oppose the authority of the High Command," the female who had shown such disdain for Savaan all but sneered. "I will take no part in this illegal action."

"Thy actions betray thy nature," Kuvak spoke gravely as two of the _Ozh-dukal t'T'Khasi_ flanked her. Her face showed alarm as the two took her into custody.

"What is the meaning of this?" she demanded.

"She is one of them," Soval realized before the others caught on.

"Indeed," Kuvak nodded. "Secure her for now," he ordered the two Vulcan fighters. "We will deal with her later." The squawking female continued to protest to no avail as she was carried away into captivity.

"We have been blind," Minister Korel, the Minister of Agriculture said calmly, though his face betrayed his realization of what had occurred. "We have forgotten too much from the teaching of our forefathers. We are to blame for this travesty as much as V'Las." He looked at Kuvak.

"You will have my support."

Slowly the others added their voices until all ten of the remaining Ministers, all that did not actively support V'Las, were firmly on board with Kuvak.

"What shall we do?" Subat asked for the others.

"We will, as the humans put it, 'terminate' V'Las' rule of Vulcan," Kuvak's voice was grim. "And we will do so in whatever way is necessary to ensure the survival of our people and our way of life. Our true way of life." He turned to look at the humans and Vulcans assembled behind him.

"Our allies have already fought, bled, and died in our cause. I ask them now to lend us their strength once more, to help us put right that which we have allowed to go wrong."

Trip looked at Jon, willing to let him take the lead. Jon nodded to his old friend as he felt T'Pau's hand squeeze his tightly. He smiled gently at her and then looked at Kuvak.

"We were going to do that anyway."


	21. Chapter 21

_A little bit of back story on how Trip met Janos to start with along with some thrilling heroics. . .wait, wrong fandom. Anyway, I own no part of Enterprise and claim none, make no money from these feeble efforts, and it's completely okay not to sue me. Also, Janos and other original characters belong solely to the writer (that'd be me) and may not be used in any way shape or form without my expressed permission. Have a nice day!_

 **STE STE STE STE STE STE**

Chapter Twenty-One

"And so that's what's happenin' at the moment," Trip finished bringing Janos up to speed.

"Well, you've had quite the few days, haven't you?" Janos leaned back into his chair. "Married now as well," he added with just a hint of malicious glee. His smile died off however as he thought ahead.

"Charles, you realize I hope that. . . ." he trailed off, unsure of how to proceed.

"I know," Trip nodded somberly. " _He_ told me. It is what it is. He says that she'll help me. Teach me patience. Says I have to listen to her as she does so. That I have a lot to learn and T'Pol is the start of that."

Janos felt a great burden raise from off his shoulders at those words. He had spent much time in reflection over Charles Tucker. He had acted in his own passion, in his own anger, and that action had come very close to creating a serious problem. Had Charles' symbiot not be. . .different, then Janos might have been forced to do something distasteful and heart breaking where Charles was concerned.

"Do you remember when we met, Charles?" he asked suddenly.

"Yes sir," Trip nodded, thinking back to that day long ago. "Kinda hard to forget."

 _Fourteen year old Trip Tucker was on the beach when it happened. He didn't know the girl, had never seen her before, but he recognized the dorsal fin emerging from the water._

 _He was in the water before he had time to think, swimming with powerful strokes borne of determination, fear, and a lifetime of living on the ocean. By the time he'd reached her there was blood everywhere in the water and the shark was returning._

 _Trip had taken the girl's shoulder and began swimming desperately for the shore, knowing all the time that he would never make it before the tiger shark returned to finish the job, and probably Trip Tucker with it. He could have released the girl and made for the shore himself and probably survived. No one would blame a teenager for that. No one would hold him responsible._

 _It never crossed his mind._

 _As the shark bore in, Trip timed his actions carefully and just as the beast came in for the kill he kicked out, catching the predator on the snout. Pain and surprise made the shark turn away, swimming angrily into deeper water before beginning a lazy turn that would allow it to line up another attack._

 _Trip watched the fin turn, knowing he wouldn't be that lucky again. He was beginning to tire, too. The woman had been struggling at first, but had passed out from loss of blood. He kept a tight grip on her, still fighting for all he was worth. He might not make it, but he wouldn't quit._

 _It seemed as if the shark moved in slow motion as it approached from a different angle this time, almost as if it realized that Trip was too tired to maneuver around it. As the huge predator came on, Trip closed his eyes, not wanting to see the end. His parents would grieve over him and he was filled with sadness at that. But they would probably be proud that he tried to save the girl. It would have to do._

 _His eyes snapped open as the sound of splashing and struggle came to him without the accompanying feel of the attack he'd expected._

 _He saw a large man before him now, grappling with the shark. At first Trip was sure the man was dead, the ten foot shark being more than a match for any man. But his rescuer was not just any man._

" _Hurry, child," the man said over his shoulder. "For the shore, quickly now!" Startled from his stupor of amazement, Trip began kicking once more toward the shore, dragging the woman with him. By the time he reached the beach he was exhausted. There was a woman waiting at the water's edge, and with a surprising strength she pulled both Trip and the injured woman from the water, dragging them well up onto the beach._

 _Exhausted now, Trip could only lay on the sand gasping for air as the woman checked the girl over. Girl was a misnomer, really, since she had to be late teens or even early twenties._

 _He saw the man wading from the water, blood covering him but looking uninjured despite that. Finally his exhaustion claimed him as the man knelt beside the injured girl, and Trip went to sleep._

"You've come a very long way since that day, Charles," Janos was saying as Trip shook himself out of that memory.

"Several light years," Trip nodded, joking, and Janos chuckled at that.

"You have a much longer journey ahead of you, my boy," Janos turned serious again. "Learn to insulate yourself against the pain of loss, Charles. Enjoy the time you have with T'Pol, with Archer, with all of them, but. . .remember that while you will remain, they will not. It is the bitterest of lessons that we must learn, Charles. For all the gift that time such as ours can be, there is always a payment. Always a loss for each gain. Her life, their lives, will look like the blink of an eye to you one day. Cherish the time, my son, for it will be gone all too quickly."

Trip knew that Janos was speaking from personal experience. He didn't know the experience, but he could hear it in the man's voice.

"What happened to the girl?" Trip asked suddenly. "From the beach? I never knew. I didn't even think to ask when I saw you again the day I came calling."

"Oh, she's around somewhere," Janos smiled easily. "It sounds like Archer has grown some, by the way," he changed the subject, getting back to business. "What about this girl, T'Pau?"

"She's different," Trip nodded. "And according to whatever Surak told him, she's the future of Vulcan. Believe it or not, that's the one thing that Jon and Soval can seem to agree on. He said the same thing to me while we were waiting for the Vulcan fleet. I don't know what makes her special, mind you. For my money they don't either. Not yet."

"Perhaps it was the way she was raised," Janos suggested. "She will lack many of the preconceptions that Vulcans are taught about us. And she will likely be free of the prejudice against non-Vulcans that seems to permeate their culture. That alone makes her something special. Perhaps she can lead the Vulcans to join the rest of us in an open society, Charles."

"Hadn't thought about that," Trip nodded, clearly thinking. "Guess I better make sure nothin' happens to her."

"I suggest that would be a good idea," Janos agreed. "Perhaps you can select a small guard for her. And for Archer as well. His future seems to be changing."

"If he runs for President that'll be true enough," Trip laughed shortly. "President Archer. Now ain't that something?"

"It would be, but I think he might re-visit that idea now," Janos smiled again.

"Why?"

"He seems to be taking his guardianship of T'Pau very seriously," Janos pointed out. "If that continues, then he will be very busy 'raising' the future leader of Vulcan. That does not leave much time for politics."

"Hm," Trip mused. "Hadn't thought about that. Well, maybe just the threat of him thinking about it would be enough to cause some changes around there. As long as there's the possibility of his entering the arena, it will keep the rest honest."

" _Now_ you are thinking long term, Charles," Janos nodded approvingly. "Continue to do so. And now, I suggest that you have things to do, so I will allow you to go and do them."

"Yes sir," Trip nodded. "We'll be in touch." The screen went dark and Janos leaned back in his chair. Overall he was very pleased with how things were going. Not how he would have envisioned when all this began, but in no way disappointing. At least not for him. He sighed at that thought. He did have one rather distasteful duty to perform now. He hit the intercom on his desk.

"Neera, could you please come to my office, dear?" he asked pleasantly. "I have something I need to discuss with you."

STE

"Commander, we need to talk."

Malcolm looked up from where he was servicing his rifle to see _Not Actually An Ensign_ Evans, as he now thought of her, standing over him.

"What do you want," he said evenly. Not rude, not nice, not anything.

"I know you're angry," Evans began. "But you have to understand that-"

"Listen to me," Malcolm cut her off, his voice vibrant with anger. "I can respect anyone following orders. I do so myself. But you do not get to dictate the terms by which I lead my life, I don't care _who_ sent you _or_ why. I am a bloody Lieutenant Commander in UE Starfleet and I will bloody well do my job, where _ever_ that might take me." He stood. "If you're inclined to follow along in order to carry out your orders then I'll see to it that you can, but that is _all_ the leeway you get from me. And you will never again presume to issue o _rders_ to me, Ensign. Understand?"

"Commander-" Evans was flushing now.

" _Do_ you bloody well under _stand_ me?" Malcolm's voice never raised but crackled across her with a surprising energy for all its softness. She began to see what Lord Janos saw in Reed. She didn't like it much, but she could see a peek of it. Now.

"Yes sir," she settled for saying, fighting a sigh. She'd always been grateful to Janos. She'd be dead without his intervention. But sometimes her job purely sucked.

"Excellent," Malcolm nodded. "You are dismissed." With that terse command he returned his full attention to the rifle in his hands and removed Not Actually An Ensign Evans from his personal universe.

 _I don't know what July sees in him_ , she thought darkly as she stomped away. She had intended to thank Reed for saving her life, but he'd never given her the chance. Even someone like her wouldn't survive a disruptor bolt to the head.

"Limey jackass," she murmured under her breath.

STE

"Time is not on our side, ladies and gentlemen," Archer told the assembled group of leaders. "Every moment we spend here is another moment that your fleet faces the very real possibility of destroying itself at V'Las' orders."

"We're explained our tactical plan, and I'm convinced that Major Hayes and Major Reyes have covered not only all primary concerns but contingencies as well." Rey was filling in for the injured Jason Hunter. While Hunter would recover, even he needed time to do so. Cox and Batelli had returned to service, having never been actually injured to begin with. Hayes and Cole both gave them an odd look now and again, but were true to their word and said nothing.

"What we have to decide on is the strategic plan," Jon continued. "It is believed by most that being confronted by the combination of your authority and the Kir'Shara of Surak that at least some members of the High Command will leave V'Las' side. I believe that this is as good a plan of attack as we're likely to have. There does remain one question."

"V'Las will be removed from power, one way or another," he told them. "That is non-negotiable. He has killed Vulcan citizens and UE personnel in an attempt to create a state of war between us or at least to lend a reason to create a state of war between Vulcan and Andoria. Completely unacceptable. However, are you, the High Council, the rightful leaders of the Vulcan people, intending to try V'Las in open court and allow all this to air?" He paused, looking at each person in turn.

"Or do you desire that V'Las meet with an unfortunate end during this operation?" he continued. "Distasteful, I know, but still an option. I offer no opinion either way but simply the options themselves. While we will do all we can to assist you, ultimately it is you that has to decide what happens."

"It is not the Vulcan way to execute someone, particularly without a trial," S'Kar said evenly.

"Yet we send V'Shar agents to do just that without regard to whether it is the Vulcan way or not," Soval pointed out. "Further, V'Las has had no regard for the Vulcan way in issuing orders that led to the death of both our own people and many humans without benefit of a crime, let alone a trial."

"Our dealing so with off worlders does not mean that we should deal in such a way with our own people," one Minister said.

"That is an illogical statement," T'Pau interposed, moving from Archer's side to stand alone before the collected Ministers. "If Vulcan wishes to influence others in the Alpha Quadrant then we must demonstrate that we are worthy of being heard. Having a separate standard of treatment for our own people is not the way in which to accomplish that. Nor is it the way of Surak." Silence reigned as the Ministers looked a bit chagrined at the idea of being 'put in their place' by a mere 'child'. One of them, a woman by the name of T'Rian, nearly frowned.

"Who are you to lecture us in the ways of Surak?"

"I am T'Pau," the girl replied evenly. "Student of Surak since my earliest days. At the age you would have been playing with your pet _sehlat_ and building models, I was studying the writings of the Father of Logic and learning the ways of Vulcan from those who still practice the arts taught to us by Surak and his disciples. While I do not seek to lecture, that is who I am." She spoke with confidence. With grace. With an implied power that Archer found himself admiring. This was the woman who would one day rule Vulcan.

He was impressed.

"T'Pau speaks true," Savaan spoke easily into the silence. "I helped in her education and have trained her in the meditative arts as well, assisting Syrran in doing so when his duties prevented him from instructing his ward. I daresay she knows more than any of you, perhaps all of you, of the true ways of Surak." He looked at each Minister in turn.

"While we are to be non-aggressive, that in no way means we are to allow others to walk upon us. V'Las and the Winged Ones are counting upon us as a people to be complacent. To be willing to allow them to rule over us, to dominate us, rather than to fight in our own defense. You may be so inclined," Savaan admitted. "We of the _Ozh-dukal t'T'Khasi_ are not."

"So you do embrace violence," T'Rian spoke as if making her point.

"No, Minister, we _use_ violence, when necessary to protect ourselves, to protect those incapable of protecting themselves and to protect the Vulcan way of life." Savaan's voice was calm and even, every inch Vulcan. "We do not promote violence as a way of life, but we do not rule it out as a tool to be used in the betterment of our people or the preservation of our way of life. Such is the teaching of the _Ozh-dukal t'T'Khasi_."

"A way of service," Kuvak intoned, growing weary of the debate. "Something we have allowed ourselves to forget. Something else that Surak taught that we have allowed to be cast aside. When we should be casting out fear, we have instead cast out all but fear. Fear of being thought deviant, or defective. Fear of the judgment of our peers and kin. Fear of being seen as somehow unworthy of being called Vulcan. Of being known as _V'Tosh_. The People."

"And in doing so we have brought shame and dishonor to ourselves," Soval added suddenly. "We have dishonored our friends and our allies, even though they have stood with us and shed their blood against the threat of V'Las," he said, looking at Archer. "We have been dishonorable in our dealings with Earth, to the point that when they stood upon the brink of destruction from an outside power we refused to aid them, save for T'Pol, who for her stand was vilified by the V'Las cabal. It is completely illogical to think that certain violence is acceptable even when alternatives are available, then refuse to accept that when no other course of action will suffice that violence cannot be considered as acceptable."

"For my actions I have been branded a traitor by V'Las," he said with a quiet dignity. "I have sacrificed relations with those I hold most dear to me," he looked at T'Pol, "in order to prevent as much of this foolishness as was possible. I have not surrendered my own personal honor, have not cast away the affection and endearment of my most cherished ones, have not suffered the indignity of being treated as a traitor to Vulcan, only to see you argue that we must not resort to violence in this instance because it is not the way of Surak."

"It was not the way of Surak to kill over one hundred humans who were guests upon our world in order to create a false crisis," he continued to hammer his points home. "It was not the way of Surak to violate our treaty with Andoria and desecrate one of our most treasured of monasteries with a military post. It was not the way of Surak to send our fleet against that same people, a people we have a treaty with I remind you, in an unprovoked attack that would have created a state of war between our worlds. Is war, sought after and unprovoked, the way of Surak?"

"So perhaps, Minister, the proper question should be who are _you_ to lecture _T'Pau_ , touched of the essence of Surak himself, on the ways of the Father of Logic." Soval ended his speech with the same quiet dignity he had begun, every inch the Vulcan he had always been.

Several of the Ministers had the grace to allow their embarrassment at the dressing down to be visible on their faces, and T'Rian actually blushed in shame at her rebuke. Soval glanced at T'Pol and she nodded to him in acceptance of what he had said. When he looked at Archer he noted that the human was actually looking at him with something approaching respect. Perhaps he had been too long in admitting the truth. Perhaps he should have been more trusting, and been so sooner.

"Enough," Kuvak spoke again. "What is your decision."

"V'Las must be removed," S'Kar spoke at once. "If a trial of his actions were made public, the damage to Vulcan would be great. It would not be fatal, perhaps, but it could be debilitating. I submit that, logically, we cannot risk such a thing when faced with the threat of the _Rhihannsu_." He looked at the others.

"V'Las suffers from ill health, perhaps," he spoke evenly. "He is not a young Vulcan and he has been under immense strain. Perhaps his recent actions have been influenced by his mental state. Perhaps," he almost allowed himself to smile, "protective custody and treatment for his mental illness should be considered."

"Agreed," Subat nodded at once. "He must be removed from office. If he can be taken into this 'protective custody' without risk to others, then so be it. If not, then what happens will happen." He added his glare to that of S'Kar and Kuvak. One by one the others nodded their agreement. To her credit, T'Rian's nod was not the final one of the group.

"Then we are agreed," Kuvak intoned evenly and turned to Archer.

"You may commence your operation, Commodore."

STE

Four alien shuttles over Shi'Kar attracted some attention, but by now word of the tense stand-off among the fleet had reached the ground and most Vulcans were more concerned with that than with four small ships that might simply be new developments of their own R&D works.

They weren't.

Twelve MACOs, twenty-two _Ozh-dukal t'T'Khasi_ now outfitted in Vulcan commando gear, and sixteen members of Trip's 'special' security force occupied those shuttles, along with the Ministers of the High Council, Jonathon Archer, T'Pau, T'Pol, T'Les and Soval. They were spread around the various shuttles so that the loss of one would not decapitate the effort. The exception was that of Archer and T'Pau, who refused to be separated from her human guardian. T'Pol had noticed their closeness and had showed a slight look of interest, which Trip had noted. As their shuttle lifted, he asked her about it.

"Commodore Archer was appointed as _en'arh'at_ of T'Pau by Syrran, practically with his dying breath," T'Pol noted, and Trip nodded.

"That's how I got it."

"She does not treat him as an _en'arh'at_ ," T'Pol observed. "I suspect that there is a deeper bond between them. Unknown to the Commodore and misunderstood by T'Pau."

"I don't get it," Trip admitted.

"It is my belief that the very beginnings of a _koon'ul tel_ , a betrothal bond, have begun between the two of them," T'Pol admitted quietly. "I do not believe Commodore Archer would be aware of it and I suspect that T'Pau would not recognize it, given her upbringing. She likely would not have been taught of such and thus would not realize that her psyche has implanted upon the Commodore, nor his upon her. Such a bond is normally entered into at an early age when marriages are arranged."

"Are you telling me that-" Trip began, eyes wide.

"I tell you nothing except my observations," T'Pol interrupted smoothly. "I cannot even say it is a suspicion because even that is allowing too much. However, they likely had a great deal of contact in the Forge. Physical contact, especially under duress, could easily result in a bond between two people being established without their intent, or even their awareness."

"I can't see Jon being able to bond with a Vulcan, _aduna_ ," Trip said gently. "He really hates pretty much all things Vulcan except for you and Kov."

"Yet he allowed her to hold his hand in public, in full view of others," T'Pol pointed out. "And I saw him embracing her at least once, offering her comfort at a time when she was afraid. It would help if I knew what had occurred between them in the Forge."

Trip looked down the shuttle to see Batelli looking at him. He motioned for her to join them and she did so.

"My lord."

"Bats, you were with Jon, _Commodore Archer_ , and T'Pau pretty much the entire time in the Forge, right?"

"Except when I was killing the _sehlats_ , yes sir," she nodded.

"You killed multiple _sehlats_?" T'Pol asked suddenly and Batelli nodded absently. What was so _special_ about that? They were just big cats, after all. Surely some Vulcan, _somewhere_ , had killed a _sehlat_ at some point in their history.

"Discussion for another time, _k'diwa_ ," Trip reminded her. "T'Pol needs some information about the Commodore and T'Pau's interaction while you were in the Forge, Bats," he pointed to an empty seat.

"Well, it started out pretty bad," Batelli admitted, taking a seat. "See, that Syrran guy got hit by what T'Les called a sandfire. . . ."

T'Pol listened to the account with a growing certainty that Commodore Archer and T'Pau were in store for a surprise. One that might possibly bode well for Vulcan and Earth relations. Some day. In the future.

 _Eventually_.

STE

V'Las listened as his orders to the fleet were transmitted again. Thus far none of the Captains that had been turned to Kuvak's efforts were budging in their refusal to follow further orders from the High Command. That in itself was as ironic as it was damning. The High Command's actual function was to supervise Fleet operations. Defense and exploration. It was because of V'Las that the High Command had gradually assumed control of so much of Vulcan life, beginning with the security services.

V'Las felt his frustration mounting and had to remind himself to remain as calm as possible. He was so tired of pretending to be a damn Vulcan. Their meditation and refusal to acknowledge their emotions, their passions. How could any being live without the passions that made life worth living? For a people who prided themselves on logic, it was completely illogical to him. He almost shook his head at the irony before catching himself.

"Multiple ships dropping from warp, sir," reported one of the Vulcans cloistered in the command center with him. "It appears to be the remainder of the ships from the expedition against Andoria. Some of them at least as there are many missing."

"The work of the traitors Soval and Kuvak no doubt," V'Las managed to intone calmly when what he really wanted to do was to rend and tear and scream in rage. "Have they tried to contact us?"

"No, Minister," was the reply. "They are communicating with Captain Sopek of the _Ni'Var_."

"More traitors," V'Las bit back a snarl. No one made a reply to that. Unlike V'Las, the others in the room were Vulcan and were having some serious misgivings about all of this. The last two or three day's events were so highly unusual in an orderly society like Vulcan that many simply had no concept of how to deal with such happenings.

Fortunately that decision was about to be made for them.

STE

"We're on final, sir," Travis said to Commodore Archer. "Ninety seconds to first in."

"Right," Jon nodded. There was room on the roof for only one shuttle at the time to land. Trip had argued successfully that his men should go in first. He had argued successfully that he should lead them.

He had argued _un_ successfully that his _aduna_ should ride a later shuttle. He was becoming used to that.

Jon watched as the first shuttle zoomed in at an alarming rate of speed only to lift the nose at the last second and hover scant inches off the roof.

"Here we go," he said to no one in particular. He felt a small hand take his and looked down to see T'Pau looking through the screen as well.

"It will be fine," he promised.

"And what happens after all is fine?" she asked, looking at him with impossibly brown eyes. "What then, Jonathon Archer?"

"Well, hopefully you'll stop calling me by my full name every time you talk to me," he grinned, and was rewarded with a green tinge to her ears and cheeks.

"Let's worry about that once this is over," he added. "Whatever happens you'll be okay, T'Pau. I promise."

She nodded but made no other reply. He wondered again what made him so protective of her.

She wondered what made her trust him.

STE

"Hit 'em!" Trip shouted as his people poured off the shuttle. He had managed to wring from T'Pol one lone concession, that she would be the last one out of the shuttle. He had considered telling the pilot to pull away before she could disembark, which had resulted in the comment;

"If you are deceiving me, I will be. . .annoyed."

Dammit.

There were two Vulcans, _probably_ Vulcans, stationed on the roof for security and both went down in seconds. Trip had no way of knowing if they had sounded an alarm and really didn't care. He and his men would be the first in and he was confident they could deal.

They established a perimeter as the next shuttle repeated the maneuver, and then the next until finally everyone was in position. In the interim an explosive charge had been placed on the door leading down to the command center and two crew served weapons positioned on the roof to prevent reinforcements from coming in behind them.

Trip looked at Jon who nodded. He looked next to Savaan who did the same. Hayes was with Reyes.

"Get some!" Trip called.

"By the numbers!" Hayes said as Reyes hit the detonator and the door disintegrated.

Three of Trip's people, heavily armored against energy weapons, made entry first, literally leaping down the stairs to establish as 'stairhead' of sorts, allowing the others to fall in behind them. They were met with Vulcan resistance in the hallways but projectile weaponry was far more deadly than even disruptor fire, which they were armored against anyway.

Reyes and Hayes calmly stepped over the bodies in the hallway as if it were everyday business and led the way, guided by Soval to the command center's control and communications hub.

Reyes looked at the door and began laying another charge around it but Soval stopped him.

"Let us see how careless, or arrogant, V'Las is." He entered the code given him by Minister Kuvak and the doorway opened.

"Go!" Reyes ordered urgently and the three heavily armed troopers stormed the room followed by the remainder of Trip's forces save those assigned to protect T'Pol, Jon, and T'Pau. The _Ozh-dukal t'T'Khasi_ commandos left five of their number in the hallway supported by the MACOs of _Enterprise_ to safeguard their backs and protect those not entering the hub.

Three Vulcans inside drew weapons at the sight of intruders and were cut down at once. The rest froze, stunned by the ferocity of the attack. Except for one. A tall Vulcan with gray hair and a cape of all things walked slowly to a small console where he lifted a plastic box cover and rested his hand on the plunger underneath.

"Hold it!" Reyes shouted in Vulcan. Soval ordered everyone in the room to stand still and raise their hands in Vulcan.

"Stop where you are,' V'Las said calmly, almost as if he were a real Vulcan. "If you do not, then I will destroy every ship in the Vulcan fleet orbiting over us right now."


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter Twenty-Two

"Stop where you are,' V'Las said calmly, almost as if he were a real Vulcan. "If you do not, then I will destroy every ship in the Vulcan fleet orbiting over us right now."

At which point everyone did stop because no one knew what to think about that.

"Surely you did not believe it would be so simple, Soval?" V'Las almost smiled in satisfaction.

"It has not been simple, nor even desirable," Soval said evenly. "Merely necessary. Regrettably necessary."

"Fool," V'Las hissed and several of the Vulcans that had been following his orders looked at him questioningly, though he didn't notice. "Ah, and you brought your human lackey with you," V'Las sneered as Archer walked inside followed by T'Pau, Trip and T'Pol slipping inside as well. Trip's hand was at his side, by his leg. T'Pol was on the other side of him from Archer.

"Lackey?" Jon snorted. "You Romulans have a flare for the dramatic, I'll give you that, V'Las. Or whatever your name is." The Vulcan staff was now looking at V'Las very closely indeed.

"He lies," V'Las told them. "To divide us."

"I couldn't care less about you," Jon shrugged. "Except that you murdered over a hundred United Earth personnel. That I have a problem with."

"A meaningless number of dead humans means nothing to us," V'Las replied. "And all I have to do is press this plunger and countless Vulcans will die in orbit as I destroy the bulk of our fleet."

"Don't you mean Vulcan's fleet?" Jon asked. "And go ahead and push the damn thing," he added. "You can't think I care. Hell, I'll help you if you want. It would make it easier for the Romulans after all, and that might make them friendly to me."

"Jonathon Archer?" T'Pau looked up at him, a stricken look on her face. He ignored her.

"In fact, I think I'd rather deal with them than Vulcans, to be honest," Jon continued. "I mean lets face it. Vulcan has lied to us time and again, dealt deceitfully with us at every hand's turn, and done their dead level best to keep us penned up on our own world for. . .hell since we've known them."

"You promised," T'Pau almost whispered. He looked at her then.

"You didn't seriously think I meant all that did you," he asked derisively. "I mean be serious. You're a _Vulcan_." He looked back to V'Las.

"So go ahead," he shrugged. "Blow up their fleet. Your fleet, assuming you're actually a Vulcan and not a Romulan like I thought. I've met a few Romulans along the way. Not the friendliest of people I grant you, but I've never had one lie to me. Ever. Whatever they told me they would do, they did. I can't say that for Vulcan. Most accomplished liars I've met," he gave Soval a glare.

"You really expect me to believe you, Archer?" V'Las almost snorted.

"I couldn't care less, V'Las," Jon shrugged again. "I'm about to decapitate the leadership of Vulcan in one fell swoop. You think that won't be worth something to the Romulans when they get here? I'm betting it will. I'm _counting_ on it in fact. Like I said, not the friendliest of folks, but never _once_ lied to me. I'll take my chances that helping them kick your ass is worth something to them."

"Interesting," V'Las said, his voice calm. "I would not have thought you capable of such duplicity, Archer. It is impressive."

"I'm not here to impress you," Jon shot back. "Go ahead, V'Las. The quicker you do this, the faster this is over. Save us the trouble. We've got two ships in orbit that can finish whatever you can't get."

"What?" V'Las looked startled.

"Did I forget to mention that?" Jon smiled. "My bad. See, we don't actually _need_ Vulcan, V'Las. To protect us from anyone. We handled the Xindi just fine and we just kicked the ass of your Vulcans, so I imagine we can deal with the Romulans just fine if they come calling. Might lose a few here and there, but there's a lot more of us. We aren't limited to breeding every seven years. We'll replace our losses quick enough."

V'Las suddenly threw his head back and laughed. The Vulcan staff looked shocked at the reaction.

"My dear human," V'Las smiled openly at last. "Had I only known. An ally all along in what I took for my bitterest enemy outside of these _Vulcans_ ," he made the word sound like a curse. "Yes Archer, I can assure you that we can come to some type of accommodation concerning your contribution to the annexation of Vulcan," he said, lifting his hand from the plunger. "Let me ju-"

Trip's hand came up in a flash, the old fashioned projectile pistol in his hands barking once as soon as it was level.

V'Las looked surprised as a small hole appeared in the center of his forehead, blood and brains spraying out behind him to cover the Vulcans standing there and the wall past them. Slowly, almost in slow motion, V'Las crumpled to the floor. Trip moved to the plunger and lowered the cover.

"Thanks Trip," Jon let out a long breath. "I wasn't sure that would work."

"I was not at all sure you wanted it to work," Soval admitted. "You were very convincing."

"Yeah, well, I had a lot of anger to work out," Jon shot back then turned to T'Pau.

"I'm sorry," he said sincerely.

"This was subterfuge?" she asked, almost hopeful.

"Yes, but I couldn't risk letting you know," Jon explained. "If you hadn't looked betrayed, then he might not have bought it. I know I caused you pain, T'Pau, and I'm sorry. I just couldn't think of anything else I could do that would keep him from blowing up half the Vulcan fleet. If he wasn't bluffing," he added.

"He was not," one of the Vulcans that had staffed the control room informed them. "The fail-safe was installed over the last year to prevent our ships from being taken by traitors. Recent events made him look prophetic for his fear," he added, looking at the body of V'Las. "Of course, it is easy to look prophetic when you are planning for the future you want to bring about."

"True," Jon nodded.

"So, do we need to kill you guys, or what?" Trip asked casually, looking at the rest of the Vulcans who had occupied the command center with V'Las.

"Trip."

" _Adun_."

"Captain."

All three words were spoken in unison by different voices, each with different concerns.

"I'm just askin'," Trip shrugged. "No sense in takin' chances. 'Sides, how do I know none of 'em are Romulan?"

"There is a test that will determine their ancestry," Soval replied evenly. "It takes only seconds and can be administered here, at once."

One of the Vulcans lowered his hand suddenly and raised it again holding a disruptor aimed at Archer. Even as he fired Trip stepped in front of the beam, taking the shot full on in his chest armor.

That 'Vulcan' came apart as a phase rifle beam, a disruptor beam and a trio of heavy slugs converged on him in rapid succession. Malcolm Reed, Jeremy Cox and Vuul each lowered their weapons slowly, looking at each other.

"Trip!" Archer exclaimed, running to where his friend was slowly trying to rise.

"Just hold still, Trip!" Archer cried, dropping to his knees. "We'll get you help!"

"Son-of-a- _bitch_ that hurt," Trip groaned. "Is that guy dead?" he demanded.

"Very dead, mate," Malcolm nodded, standing over the two of them now.

"Are you sure?" Trip asked. "Cause I'd like to shoot him myself."

"You can shoot him again, mate," Malcolm smirked. "Won't affect the outcome any."

"Trip how. . .how are you. . ." Jon trailed off as Trip managed to get to his feet with a hand from Reyes.

"I would prefer you not do that again, my lord," Reyes said softly.

"Prob'ly won't," Trip nodded. "That shit hurts."

"Dammit Trip, how did that not kill you!" Jon finally lost it.

"Good armor," Trip shrugged out of his now ruined vest. "Spreads the charge out. Still burns, though," he added, rubbing his chest. "So what's this test, Soval?" he asked.

"That was the test," Soval's voice was calm. It took Trip a second to catch on and when he did he threw his head back laughing.

"Okay, you know what?" he said after a minute. "I owe you an apology for all the times I said you don't have an imagination. I was wrong about that."

"Was that all you were wrong about?" Soval asked.

"Pretty much," Trip didn't miss a beat. "Now, I'm hungry. Anybody else around here hungry? Bats, you hungry? Reyes? Hayes, what about you? You look hungry."

STE

The death of V'Las had to be handled carefully. The High Council very quietly assumed control of the C&C hub and began issuing orders. It took almost a full day to sort out the Romulan agents that V'Las had managed to appoint as ship commanders, but Soval was able to assist with that, as each ship mysteriously had an agent of the V'Shar on board who 'dealt' with the known Romulan captains.

Teams of Vulcan engineers would be shuttled from ship to ship over the next three days, undoing the 'fail-safe' rigging that V'Las had ordered. Those Captains who were Vulcan hold outs changed their tunes when they discovered they had essentially been riding flying bombs thanks to their leader. They were relieved at once and brought planet side for debriefing.

Soval was very busy over those three days, trying to ensure that nothing was left undone. Kuvak depended upon him heavily as he worked to get control of Vulcan affairs that had been left untended for far too long. As a result of his constant hurrying to and fro, he was unable to investigate the connection between Archer and T'Pau.

T'Pol had no such hindrance.

STE

"I'm sorry, what?"

The look on Jonathon Archer's face was humorous in a human sort of way, T'Pol decided. As she was apparently half-Romulan, T'Pol had stopped trying so hard to suppress her emotions. She was not prepared to abandon that which made her Vulcan, but she would no longer feel alienated by her inability to completely suppress her emotions either.

"It is my belief that a _koon'ut tel_ , a betrothal bond, was established between the two of you by accident," T'Pol repeated. She had elected not to have Trip present for this discussion as his howling laughter at the look on Archer's face would have been extremely counterproductive.

"I don't understand," Jon admitted.

"It is my fault," T'Pau said, her voice small. "I sought a bond between us when I was fearful for your life. To help hold you to me. I sought the _tel a'nirih_ between us. To keep you here. To anchor you so that you would not depart as Surak and Syrran were to depart." She looked at him then, fearful.

"I have erred," she said. "Forgive me."

"You sought to anchor him to you before Savaan removed the _katra_ s that he bore?" T'Pol wanted to make sure she understood.

"Yes," T'Pau was looking at the floor again. "There was the chance that in removing the _katra_ s of Syrran and Surak that Jonathon Archer would be taken as well. It. . .was intolerable. I could not allow it."

"Why?" T'Pol asked, holding up a hand as Archer began to speak. "Why could you not allow it, T'Pau? His life is not yours to decide."

"I. . .I felt. . .I am not complete when he is not near," she stumbled to explain. "When his strength failed in the desert and he was taken from me, carried by Mister Cox, I. . . _missed_ , his presence." It was obvious that she was struggling to explain herself. "I felt an emptiness where he had been. It was most disagreeable. I can explain no further," she looked up at T'Pol. "I do not know how," she admitted.

"It is unnecessary," T'Pol assured her. "You have done nothing improper, T'Pau," she spoke gently. "I believe you would benefit from meditation and rest, at least for a short while. I would speak with Commodore Archer. To explain to him what has happened."

"Very well," T'Pau nodded. She looked at Jon, fear very visible in her gaze.

"Please do not be angry with me," she pleaded.

"I'm not," Jon promised. "Don't worry about it. Rest. Meditate. I'll be close by," he added. She nodded and settled on the floor as T'Pol led Archer out of the small room and to one across the hall.

"This may be problematic," T'Pol said as the two settled into seats.

"I can see that," Jon sighed. "I know. . .look, I've told no one this, but I have to trust someone," he looked at T'Pol. "You've heard me speak Vulcan, I assume." She nodded.

"I haven't the faintest idea how to speak Vulcan, T'Pol, save a few words here and there, yet I'm speaking it fluently now. I had a very long conversation with the 'essence' of Surak before he was taken from my head. I know," he nodded at T'Pol's wide eyed expression. "It's crazy, but it's all true."

"I'm supposed to prepare her to rule Vulcan some day according to Surak," Jon pointed back to the room they had exited. "To teach her how to deal with other races and to lead Vulcan into a greater community of people. Or words to that effect." He rubbed his face with his hands. "T'Pol, I don't know what to do. I can't feel like this toward a woman her age. I know that by Earth years she's nearly my age, but by Vulcan standards she's still a teenager practically."

"What do you feel for her, Commodore?" T'Pol asked gently.

"I feel more than one thing," he admitted. "I want to protect her, first of all. To cherish her, a word I've never used in my _life_ until right this minute. To insulate her from anything that might hurt her or cause her pain. And I. . .I _desire_ her, T'Pol," he admitted shame faced. "I shouldn't, but I can't help it. I know it's wrong but I still do and I can't seem to stop."

"This is not your fault, Commodore," T'Pol assured him. "And you cannot stop it because it is a bond that is _intended_ to draw you to her. It _requires_ you to desire her and no other. To cherish her and no other. To desire to keep her safe and protect her against all challengers. It becomes a bi-"

"Biological imperative," Jon finished for her. "I've had this conversation in my mind, somewhere," he admitted. "I knew what it was even then, I guess. Surak's essence said he was giving me 'one last gift' as he left. My mind felt like it was getting a data dump of all things Vulcan. I didn't say anything in there because I didn't want to upset her, but. . .I know all this," he admitted. "My head is _full_ of Vulcan. T'Pol I _hate_ Vulcan."

"Do you?" T'Pol asked, one elegant eyebrow raised.

"Of course I do!" Jon replied. "You know I do!"

"Tell me what you hate about Vulcan, Commodore," T'Pol encouraged. "Leave nothing out."

"I ha-" he started, then stopped, frowning. "I hated V'Las," he settled for saying.

"Not a Vulcan, as you yourself have proven," she pointed out.

"I hate Soval," he tried again.

"Not without reason and not simply because he is Vulcan," T'Pol responded. "I also feel strongly inclined to avoid Soval's company," she added, causing Jon to snort in amusement.

"I hate the heat, and the dryness, and the. . .the. . . ." he trailed off finally, looking at her with a helplessness that would have been humorous had it not been so serious a situation.

"Most of us do not care for the arid conditions," she told him. "Commodore, your attitude toward Vulcan, at least in general terms, had undergone a dramatic shift in the last few days."

"Because of what she did?" he asked.

"No," T'Pol's voice was firm. "T'Pau's actions did not create the connection between you. Your close physical contact, dependance upon one another, and your kindness to her created the bond you now share. Her clumsy attempt to create a parental bond failed because there was already a _tel_ between the two of you that she, in her inexperience, failed to recognize. She could not establish a parental bond but did not realize it, and _assumed_ that the bond that already existed was the result of her actions as she thought you lay dying."

"So we were already. . . .?"

"I believe a priest will verify that, and be able to reverse it as well," T'Pol nodded. "He could also establish the bond that T'Pau sought to create."

"I don't. . .T'Pol I don't know how that would affect her," he said gently. "I can't do something like that unless I know she'll be okay afterward." T'Pol actually smiled.

"It is possible, Commodore, that you have affection for T'Pau that prevents a severing of the bond. She may likewise entertain such feelings for you. If so, then dissolution of the bond may prove difficult, if not impossible."

"It's permanent?" Jon looked aghast. "But she's too young!"

"By our standards perhaps," T'Pol nodded. " _K'lalatar prnak'lirli_ , Commodore. Infinite diversity in infinite combinations. I suggest you rest, and try to review what Surak imparted to you about IDIC." She stood. "I will consider your options as well." She paused again.

"Perhaps it is not so bad as you believe," she offered.

"I never said it was bad," Jon reminded her. "I just said it was improper."

"If it were improper, it could not have happened."

STE

Trip was walking through the large lobby of the building they had been using for the Vulcan's 'reorganization', looking around for T'Pol. She had been looking for Jon and he assumed she's found him. Trip was getting hungry again and had wanted to see if T'Pol-

His thoughts broke off as he bumped into someone.

"Sorry 'bout that," he said at once, catching the woman as she almost fell. She was young, maybe twenty he figured, wearing the uniform of a Starfleet Ensign with a Science tab on her collar.

"Pardon my lord," she said at once.

"Since when do Starfleet people call me that?" Trip asked, eyes narrowing. She looked up at him then and his eyes grew wide.

"You!"

"Me," Evans nodded slowly, smiling softly. "Thank you, Charles Tucker. I never had the chance to say that before."

"I was just asking what had become of you, too," Trip told her. "What are you doing here?"

"Trip, have you seen the Comm. . .Evans, what are you doing?" Malcolm cut himself off, eyes narrowing.

"She's gettin' knocked down by me cause I wasn't lookin' where I was goin," Trip laughed. "Sorry about that," he said to Evans.

"No problem, sir," she nodded and turned to Malcolm.

"Will that be all, Commander?" she asked carefully.

"Carry on," Malcolm nodded. Evans smiled at Trip again and moved away.

"What's got you all Britished up?" Trip asked.

"And just what the bloody hell does that mean?" Malcolm bristled slightly.

"Oh, get off your high horse, Malcolm," Trip snorted. "You're as stiff legged as a billy goat. What's eatin' you?"

" _She_ is," Malcolm admitted, nodding at Evans. "Not what she appears to be, mate."

"I just caught that," Trip agreed. "How'd she get you all mad?"

"She claims that our mutual friend assigned her to 'watch over me'," Malcolm groused. "It's not that I don't find it flattering, but she's a bad habit of giving me orders. I don't care for that. And her inviting herself along on this little foray has put a very large dent in my relationship with Hoshi."

"Relationship?" Trip asked, eyebrows raised.

"Figure of speech only, mate," Malcolm promised. "Still, it _was_ looking promising until Evans up and pulled her 'old books' routine on me. Hoshi accused me of having it on with her and Evans of using that to get herself included on the away team. I might have responded to that accusation a bit more harshly than was strictly necessary," he admitted almost as if it hurt to do so.

"Ah," Trip nodded his understanding. "She likes irises and blue bonnets," Trip added.

"What?" Malcolm looked at him.

"Hoshi," Trip smiled. "She has a thing for irises and blue bonnets. Flowers, Malcolm," Trip added when Reed's facial expression didn't change. "For God's sake, Malcolm, don't tell me you've never sent a woman flowers before!"

"Of course I have!" Malcolm shot back. "I'm curious to know how _you_ know what she likes," he bit back a snarl.

"I got her out of a scrape or two when she was in the Academy," Trip shrugged. "We became friends gradually. Lost touch with her after. . .well, after she left," he chuckled. "Didn't see her again until she showed up with Jon for duty on the _Enterprise_."

"And?" Malcolm demanded, just this side of testy.

"And that's it," Trip shrugged. "Be too much like datin' my sister or somethin'," Trip shook his head. "Creepy, ya know?"

"How do you know about the flowers?"

"She told me," Trip replied. "Some fella sent her roses, and she laughed and left 'em on the counter for another gal. Set the old boy back a penny or two I figure, but she said she wasn't a roses kinda girl."

"Indeed," Malcolm thawed a bit.

"You need to loosen up a bit, Mal," Trip teased. "You pull that belt any higher and your chin might hit the buckle."

"Sod off," Malcolm shot back.

"Listen, I'm hungry so I'm gonna go find the kitchen. Place like this oughta have a cafeteria don't you reckon?"

"You must have a bloody tapeworm, Trip," Malcolm smirked. "You're always eating."

"I got a high metabolism," Trip semi-whined. "You gonna help me find the cafeteria or not?"

"Fine, let's be about it, then," Malcolm sighed. "Your whining is becoming a bit annoying."

"I'm not whining, I'm _hungry_ ," Trip objected. "You know, I bet they ain't gonna have anything but Vulcan food," he said suddenly.

"It's a Vulcan building, _on_ Vulcan," Malcolm replied acidly. "What did you expect them to serve? Hamburgers?"

"Boy that'd be all right!" Trip rubbed his hands together. "I wonder if the Human sector has anything like that?" he said suddenly.

"You bloody Yanks and your fast food," Malcolm shook his head as the two wandered off in search of Trip a meal.

STE

" _Adun_ ," T'Pol found them in the cafeteria eating 'takeout' from a restaurant in the Human sector. It was good, sometimes, to be Lord Grim. He had sent someone to get him something to eat.

"'ey," Trip replied around a mouthful of hamburger. "Wha' 'ou fin' ou' 'bou' Jon?"

"I have asked you not to speak with your mouth full of food, _k'diwa_ ," T'Pol sighed, taking a seat beside him as Malcolm chuckled across from him. Frowning, Trip made a great show of slowly chewing and then swallowing his food, washing it down with a carbonated beverage that came with the meal.

"What. Did. You. Find. Out. About. Jon?" he bit out finally. T'Pol raised her Eyebrow of 'Really, Husband?' and was obviously fighting off a smile at his antics. For some reason that pleased Trip very much.

"I believe that my suspicions are correct," she informed him. "I was mistaken of the process, however," she explained to him what she had learned, leaving Trip struggling not to laugh.

"I do not think Commodore Archer would find this a matter of humor, _Adun_ ," T'Pol said sternly.

"That's fine, cause I do," Trip shot back. "You gotta admit, T'Pol, this is irony at it's best. Jon hates Vulcan. All things Vulcan. The only two of you I've ever seen him even be nice to are you and Kov. And he wasn't always nice to you."

"Nor were you," she reminded him.

"But I didn't hate you," he pointed out. "I just enjoyed needlin' ya. Just like I do everybody else. Wasn't nothin' personal, I just enjoyed tryin' to make you smile or laugh. Make you loosen up a little," he grinned.

"Which you have managed to do quite well," she admitted with a look. Trip felt a wave of arousal pass over him that wasn't entirely the product of the bond they now shared.

"Well, I think it was mutually enjoyable," he smirked and was rewarded with a slight green tinge at the tips of her ears and along her high cheekbones.

"Indeed," was her only reply.

"So, what's he gonna do?" Trip asked, getting back to the subject.

"Not to intrude on this Hallmark moment you two are having," Malcolm cut in, "but what are we talking about?" Trip and T'Pol exchanged a glance, having forgotten for a second that he was there.

"Ah, I don't know that we should say anything, Mal," Trip admitted finally. "Might be kinda intrudin' into someone's personal business."

"Fair enough," Reed shrugged, standing. "Thanks for the lunch, mate," he grinned. "I'm going to see what's happening around here."

"See you later, Mal," Trip nodded. As he departed Trip looked again to his wife.

"So what's the verdict?"

"Verdict?" T'Pol looked puzzled.

"What's the situation," Trip sighed, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

T'Pol explained her suspicions of what had occurred between Jonathon Archer and T'Pau without interruption as Trip listened. He resisted the urge, barely, to cackle with malicious glee at the idea that Jon was now 'betrothed' to T'Pau.

" _Adun_ , if I were human, I would be alarmed at the intense feeling of humor and sadism that I feel from you through our bond concerning the situation the Commodore finds himself in," T'Pol said flatly.

"It ain't like I'm laughin' in his face," Trip shot back, but couldn't keep the mischief from his eyes. "Besides, you already said that a priest could fix 'em," he added.

"I did not, nor would I _ever_ , use the term 'fix 'em'," T'Pol said severely. "And nor did I make any such claim. I said that provided the bond was still incomplete and that the two would find it agreeable to have the bond severed, then it could be done by a priest."

"What do you mean if they find it 'agreeable'?" Trip asked. "Wait," his eyes lit up again. "Are you tellin' me that Jon actually likes T'Pau. By which I mean he _likes_ T'Pau? The way I _like_ you?" he waggled his eyebrows comically and only the knowledge that so many Vulcans would see and hear kept T'Pol from laughing aloud.

"I would hope that you more than _like_ me, _Adun_ ," she settled for saying with a raised eyebrow of Suppressed Humor.

"Oh, I'd say that's a safe hope, _Aduna_ ," Trip grinned. "But don't change the subject. Cause the idea of Jon havin' the hots for a Vulcan girl? That ain't _never_ gettin' old!"


	23. Chapter 23

_No right or claim of any kind is expressed or implied by this work of fanfiction. Enjoy!_

 **Chapter Twenty-Three**

T'Pol managed to keep Trip away from Jonathon Archer but it took work. Fortunately for her, Soval had appeared with the answer to a request Trip had made. Soval was clearly uncomfortable about whatever it was, but he had no say in how things were being run at the moment. Trip had appealed directly to Minister Kuvak.

"Your request has been granted," he said solemnly. "I must advise-"

"Thanks," Trip cut him off smoothly. "Be back in a bit," he told T'Pol, kissing her lightly, as much to rankle Soval as to say good-bye. T'Pol knew what he was doing of course and did not object to the public display, either aloud or through the bond. While some of Soval's actions had been explained by recent revelations, T'Pol had yet to see how his assisting with her blackmail had been necessary to bring about V'Las' end.

"Where are you going?" she asked calmly. There was suddenly no connection between them. It was as if Trip had become a black hole.

"Gotta see a Vulcan about a _sehlat_ ," he grinned. "I'll be back," he promised and then was gone, following the Vulcan that was waiting for him. Soval examined T'Pol for a moment before speaking.

"It would be agreeable to speak to you," he said finally.

"Concerning?" T'Pol asked, eyebrow raised.

"I wish to make what amends I can for your discomfort," he replied carefully.

"Discomfort?" T'Pol rolled the word across her tongue. "Is that how you refer to the practice of blackmail, Soval? A discomfort?"

"There were many considerations that had to-"

"Yes, I have heard this before," she interrupted, eliciting an eyebrow from Soval. "I am singularly uninterested in hearing it again. From you or from She who was once my mother." Her body language had gone stiff. Stephanie Batelli, watching from across the room, noted it and began moving in her direction.

"I will say only that what is done is done," T'Pol told him flatly. "I do not have time to bear grudges, nor are they profitable. I have much to do as I begin my role as the wife of Lord Grim, the Destroyer." As much as she detested the way Trip was thought of she relished it just this once, using it to irritate Soval. It succeeded.

"I do not see the need for Tucker to continually refer to himself in such a fashion," Soval almost sounded put out.

"He rarely refers to himself in such a way," T'Pol replied calmly. "Lord Grim is the appellation that his followers use to address him. Attempts to prevent it's usage have not met with success. Destroyer is a title conferred upon him by the Xindi." She could have stopped there, but discovering that she might be half Romulan seemed to have been a liberating experience and she decided to twist the knife. Just a little.

"They called him that when they cowered before him as he contemplated destroying their entire species. What I believe the humans call 'root and branch'. An agricultural term I am given to understand, dealing with the removal of bothersome flora. He chose neither name for himself."

"Yet he uses them," Soval countered. "And now you do."

"So he does," T'Pol nodded. "As have I," she agreed. "In my time of need, Soval, when everyone I should have been able to count upon turned their back on me or betrayed me, sought to extort me and use me, he was the _one_ person who came to my defense. _He_ was the being that stood between me and the vile acts that you, my mother, Kovek and above all, Koss, would have perpetrated upon me."

"As such, while I may _occasionally_ refer to him by these titles and appellations, the term I use most often, the term that I choose to show how much I respect, revere and admire, indeed how much I _love him_ , is _adun_."

"You find it proper to refer to such emotions so openly?" Soval asked, almost frowning.

"As proper as using my own flesh and blood as a bargaining chip," T'Pol riposted. "As proper as exchanging my role as _en'arh'at_ in an attempt to gain power and favor. I am not altogether certain I know what 'proper' Vulcan behavior is any longer. Consider my examples. And perhaps you did not hear when I referred to him as the _one_ being that I know I can count upon in all circumstances, regardless of the personal cost to him. I find it almost sad that you, or She who was once my mother, will never know that kind of affection. That kind of _love_. Were you worthy of it, I would extend you pity for that loss."

Soval's body language betrayed him as that statement struck home. Regardless of his motives, he had betrayed a sacred trust to guard and care for T'Pol as what humans would have called her godfather. Had cast aside his honor in doing so. Where most things could be forgiven, especially under the circumstances, his failure to shield T'Pol from T'Les, and especially from Koss, would not.

"Is there a problem, my lady?" Batelli asked nicely, her voice and smile completely at odds with the dead looking eyes that studied Soval. Soval had seen _sehlats_ use that same look when studying prey. Had he been less Vulcan it would have unnerved him. This was the human woman who was reported to have killed two wild _sehlats_ unaided while in the Forge. Nothing in her body language suggested the story was inaccurate.

Soval's sensibilities had been abused for the last several days in particular, but he had been under enormous strain for far longer. The harsh statement made by T'Pol had stung him, stung him to reply without thinking. To reply with emotion rather than logic.

"Then you know where your _adun_ is going, I take it?" his voice was full of condemnation.

T'Pol replied to Batelli first.

"All is well," she nodded regally. "Thank you," she added.

"Of course," Batelli bowed slightly without ever taking her eyes from Soval, a movement that further irked him.

"No, I do not know where he has gone," T'Pol replied finally. "Nor do I need to," she smirked openly at her former guardian, indulging her Romulan half yet again. "He has said that he will return and unlike others, he _keeps_ his word. When he tells me he will return, I _know_ that I may count upon it and not fear that he will instead do otherwise, or act with dishonor toward me."

"You consider murder an act of honor?" Soval shot back, his demeanor becoming more unsettled. T'Pol could not see a reason for it, but found that she also didn't care about Soval's discomfort any longer.

"You still live," T'Pol was her simple reply.

"It is not me that he has appealed to Minister Kuvak to meet with in isolation. Your _adun_ that you speak of with such honor has gone to kill Koss, who is a prisoner." He hoped to shock her from the notion that Tucker was in any way a suitable being for her to be attached to in any way. It was an irrational need he acknowledged, but he could not seem to deny it.

Instead he almost wilted as T'Pol smiled at him openly, leaning forward ever so slightly, almost as if she were a predator herself. She spoke only one word. Soft and unyielding.

"Good."

 **STE STE STE STE**

Jon knocked lightly on the door to the room T'Pau had been using in case she was asleep. He had barely lowered his hand when the door was thrown open and there she stood.

"It is agreeable to see you," she said at once, then lost her steam. That was as far as she had managed to get in her thinking.

"Likewise," he smiled slightly. "May I come in?"

"Of course," she motioned him inside, stepping back. "Forgive me."

"Nothing to forgive," Jon shook his head. "How are you feeling? Better now?"

"I am physically rested," she replied. She had taken the opportunity to clean up and change her robes. He was once again reminded at how attractive she was. Or was the _tel_ doing that? And since when did he even _think_ in Vulcan.

"You are unsettled," T'Pau read him. "What has caused you concern?"

"Unsettled," he sighed. "I guess that's a good word for it," he nodded. "You and I really need to talk, T'Pau. There is a good deal for me to tell you."

"You wish to sever any _tel_ that has formed between us," T'Pau was stoic.

"I didn't say that, now did I?" he chided gently. "The _tel_ isn't the least of what I need to talk about, but. . .honestly, there's a great deal that I need to tell you. It will take some time. Have you eaten?"

"I am not hungry."

"All right then," he sighed. "Take a seat and get comfortable. Like I said, this will take a while." He followed his own advice and sat down, collecting his thoughts. He had thought he had all this worked through before he knocked on the door but now he was having to start over.

"If you are unhappy, I understand and will no-" she began but stopped as he raised a hand.

"Stop doing that," he told her, smiling to rob the words of any sting. "I'm trying to decide where to start. You know what happened in the cave of course, you saw it." She nodded.

"You know what happened along the way to the monastery. You actually know that better than I do, to be honest. I have almost no memory of any of that. Just bits and pieces, a lot of it shrouded in fog."

"A result of bearing the _katras_ of two other beings," T'Pau nodded.

"Well, I think the place for me to start is when I first became aware after we reached the monastery. I heard you and Savaan speaking about me just before I regained consciousness. I knew then that something had happened, because. . . ."

Slowly, carefully, he told her everything. He left nothing out that he could recall or remember. The two of them were about to go down a very strange road that would be hard enough with all other things perfect and equal.

And things were never perfect or equal in his experience.

 **STE STE STE STE**

"Why am I here?" Koss demanded as his restraints were removed. He had been taken to a small dome, the kind often used for duels among families who had power and still preferred the old ways. The guards didn't reply, instead leaving him and exiting, securing the entrance from the outside. There was a rack of weapons nearby and Koss was about to leap toward it when a voice stopped him.

"Might wanna wait on that," Tucker's voice floated to him. "You'll get the chance 'fore we're done." Koss turned to see him nemesis standing across the dome, Klingon battle blade hanging at his side.

"A good choice for you, human," Koss nodded. "You wield it well."

"Had a good teacher," Trip shrugged. "I'ma give you a chance, of sorts, Koss. You know there's no way they'll let you go, I guess."

"I do."

"Well, I managed to arrange this little parley between us because I wanna kill you," Trip smiled. "In fact I'm gonna, just here in a few minutes. But here's the chance part. Those Vulcans," he pointed to the two guards still outside the dome. "They work for me. Since they work for me, they don't really answer to the powers that be around here, whoever that turns out to be once the dust settles."

"So. You give me what I want, and then happens you can beat me, they'll see to it you get off planet. Once you're off world you're on your own, but it's the best deal you're gonna get today or any other day. I should tell you, in the interest o' fairness, that if you so much as _look_ at T'Pol ever again there won't be enough o' you to identify even with DNA. I made those arrangements 'fore I came here and they're pretty much permanent. Someone will always know where you are, Koss. If she has an accident, if she goes missing, is she stubs her toe in a dark room, you're gonna be the number one suspect and you'll be ripped to pieces and left laying for whoever might care to find. Get me?"

"I do," Koss repeated. "What is it you wish to know?"

"First, I wanna know why," Trip told him. "And if I don't think you're being honest, the deal's off and whoever cleans this place 'll find your headless corpse when they come to work later."

"I wanted her," Koss said simply. "I see in her the same thing you see, human. A beautiful, intelligent, fiery female the likes of which any male should be proud to posses. I allowed that desire to think for me. I made mistakes because of it."

"We call that thinking with the wrong head," Trip nodded.

"It is impossibly hard to live among these Vulcans," Koss admitted. "I cannot understand why they would want to smother the very passions that make life worth living. They pride themselves on their logic, but tell me, human. Where is the logic in denying that which tells you that you are _alive_!"

"That is a mystery," Trip nodded. "Can't argue with that. What was your father's angle in all this?" he asked. "I mean, I can't see him letting you take all these risks just cause you had the hots for some gal. There had to be something there for him as well."

"Indeed," Koss nodded. "There was indeed. T'Pol does not know it, but she is not a Vulcan either. At least not entirely. I'm told that you know who and what we are?"

"I do," Trip used Koss' phrase in reply.

"Her father is a very high ranking officer in the Romulan navy," Koss continued. "In all likelihood he will lead the invasion when the time comes. It is also possible, though not assured, that he would be military governor of Vulcan once the occupation begins."

"Figured that would be V'Las," Trip mused. "I mean, 'fore I blew his brains out anyway," he added. "Be hard for him to do it now."

"V'Las," Koss snorted. "At best he would have been the administrator beneath Taobok. T'Pol's father," he added, and Trip nodded his understanding.

"While true that he left her, he loves her still and always has," Koss continued. "We Romulans love our children, Tucker. Much as you humans do, or so I'm told. The fact that she is half Vulcan would not diminish his love for her. She is _family_. Do you understand?"

"So much so that I almost destroyed an entire civilization," Trip nodded. "So _your_ father wanted to use T'Pol to leverage a good spot with _her_ father. That about it?"

"No, that _is_ it," Koss stated. "Manipulations, assassinations, machinations, they are all just tools to us, Tucker. The strong survive, and thrive. The weak fall forgotten into the dust to be trod upon by their betters. It is the way of the universe," he shrugged, relishing the small gesture. It felt good to finally be free of the restrictions Vulcan had placed in him.

"Does he still go by that name?" Trip asked suddenly. "Taobok, you said?"

"He does," Koss nodded. "I'm told he used the name Solan when he lived here. Your father-in-law is a very powerful man, Tucker," Koss smiled. "Though I doubt that he will be enamored to find his daughter wed to a human."

"Happens I run into him I'll ask," Trip promised. "One thing I still don't understand. I'm makin' an assumption though, so that may be it. T'Les, she's really Vulcan, right?"

"Yes."

"So how did she end up in all this?" Trip asked. "I mean she pretty well backed T'Pol into a corner over all this."

"All I know is that she wanted to retain her position at the Science Academy," Koss replied. "She was suspected of being a Syrrannite, something V'Las detested though I do not know why. He was determined to destroy them if possible however and just the suspicion was enough to have T'Les removed from her post. She agreed to help me if I prevailed upon my father to have her reinstated at the Academy."

"So you two sorta cooked this up together then," Trip nodded. "Not bad. Both sides needed something and had something the other side needed, so ya traded it out."

"Exactly," Koss nodded. "Had you not interfered it would have worked, and all would have been well."

"But I did," Trip grinned. "And now I get to ride away in the Mystery Machine with the girl." Koss didn't get the reference to the old Earth cartoon but it made Trip laugh.

"Well, it sounds like you told me the truth," he said at least. "Go ahead and pick one," he pointed to the rack. "I need to get back."

"You assume you will be going back," Koss said as he strode to the rack, selecting a sword this time.

"I do," he used Koss' words again. "I'm gonna hurt you, Koss," Trip promised, smiling. "I'm gonna make you suffer. Only for a little bit cause I got stuff to do, but make no mistake, you're in a world o' hurt."

"Then let us battle, Tucker," Koss nodded. "As you said, this is the best offer I will get. I intend to make the most of it."

"I hoped you would," Trip smiled wider. "I really, really did."

It took five minutes to disable and disarm Koss as Trip toyed with him.

It was another five minutes before Koss began to scream.

It took considerably longer for him to stop.

 **STE STE STE STE**

"He told you all this?" T'Pau looked stunned, an interesting look for a Vulcan Jon decided. Cute on her, though.

"Pretty much word for word," Jon nodded. "And then dumped just about the whole history of Vulcan into my head, along with your language and my very own personal copy of the Kir'Shara." He said all of this in Vulcan.

"No one will ever accept me as 'ruler' of Vulcan, nor should they," she objected. "It is illogical. Completely so."

"Not according to him," Jon shrugged. "And I can help you with at least some of it," he admitted. "Before all this happened I was thinking very seriously about seeking the Presidency of Earth. I have a decent working relationship with several races, including Andoria. It's not beyond the realm of possibility that I can assist you in preparing for the job, at least where working with foreign dignitaries is concerned."

"And now I'm a walking repository of all things Vulcan," he sighed. "Not how I imagined my life turning out. Did you know I was only supposed to be here long enough to drop off Soval and two UE stooges? We hadn't been here more than a couple hours when the embassy was bombed and since then it's been one thing right after another."

"I regret you have been through so much," T'Pau said softly. "I grieve with thee for the loss of thy people." She was so sincere that Jon was immediately moved by her statement. He'd felt nothing but revulsion when Soval had said it to him what seemed like years ago now.

"None of this is your fault," Jon told her. "One of the first things you're going to have to learn is to stop apologizing, especially for things that are not your fault. Things happen, T'Pau. It's called life."

"I express sorrow, not accept blame," she said with a quiet dignity. "There is a difference."

"So there is," Jon found himself agreeing. "Good point. You are only the second person to know all this," he told her. "I confided in T'Pol while you meditated earlier. She is one of the very few Vulcans I trust, and I had to tell someone. I needed a sanity check."

"I do not understand that reference," T'Pau admitted. "Sanity I recognize," she amended.

"It's a game reference," Jon told her. "Essentially I needed someone to listen, and then tell me I was still sane. That I hadn't imagined it."

"You spoke to me, rather Syrran and Surak spoke to me, through you," she told him. "And they told me that I had much to learn. They also told me you hated Vulcans. That I could teach you that you should not hate us all for the actions of a few. And that we needed each other. That together we would do much but apart we would fail. I did not understand that at the time. In truth I still see no way this can work."

"Well, the first step is to make sure we want things to work," Jon told her.

"I do not understand."

"T'Pau, this is _our life_ we're talking about," he said flatly. "I'm not going to be dictated to, and I'm not going to allow anyone to dictate to you, either. We have to have the ability to change our minds or to make a different choice or we're just drones for someone else. It won't do either of our peoples any good to have people in leadership positions who are just rubber stamps for someone else's policies."

"Agreed," she nodded her understanding. "There are other. . .issues," she said, her face tinting the slightest bit.

"Oh, yes," Jon nodded. "Thanks to Syrran and Surak I now know far more than I ever wanted to about Vulcan 'mating habits' as you referred to them. I also know something else," he admitted hesitantly. "Something about you that you may or may not know. Something I did not share with T'Pol, as it is for you alone unless you decide otherwise."

"What is it?"

"We were told you were thirty-two years of age," he said evenly. "Syrran knew differently," he said grimly.

"I do not know my exact age," she admitted. "I have only an approximation, based on my apparent age at the time I was abandoned."

"You weren't abandoned," Jon told her flatly. "You were left an orphan by what Syrran suspected was a Romulan agent. You were the equivalent of twelve Earth years of age at the time and were left highly traumatized by the events. It was decided for you that you should undergo the _Fullara_ , and Syrran assumed guardianship of you at that point."

T'Pau absorbed that without immediate reaction but Jon could see, he could _feel_ the inner turmoil she was experiencing.

"I do not understand why he would keep this from me," she finally said, her voice calm and composed despite her disconcertment. "What purpose could it serve?"

"Believing yourself to have been abandoned was safer than it being known that you might know who had killed your parents," Jon told her. "If you believed you had been abandoned, you could not reveal the truth even by accident. There was no need or reason to even look for you. Syrran kept you hidden, with help from Savaan and others. They misled you, yes, but _always_ for your own protection. They did not know who had killed your parents and you could not provide that information for them. So you were hidden in plain sight as an aberration; a Vulcan child abandoned by her parents."

T'Pau did not know what to think at this point. All her life she had believed that she had been cast aside by her mother. She had never had a memory of a parental bond, something that all Vulcans shared with their mother at least, the bond developing before the birth of the child. She had spent countless hours in meditation wondering what was wrong with her that her parents would be unwilling to keep her.

"My entire life is a lie," she said finally, the realization hitting her hard. "There is nothing true about me."

"Everything about you is true," Jon replied firmly. "You life has not been a lie, T'Pau, but a carefully woven deception to protect you from whoever killed your parents. Those who worked to hide you, to protect you and to keep you from harm did so because they cared deeply for you. Because they wanted to keep you from any more harm than you had already suffered. They have watched over you for over a quarter of a century."

"Qua-" T'Pau started, but then stopped. "How old am I?" she asked softly.

"You are forty-six Earth years old, or will be soon," Jon told her. "Which explains a great many things."

"Forty-six," she breathed, sitting back slightly. "No longer the adolescent Vulcan," she almost sounded cynical.

"True," Jon nodded his agreement. "You are an adult now, T'Pau, with no need for an _en'arh'at_ to run your life, or tell you what to do as we humans would say," he added with a grin. "Your life is now your own, as it should have been all along, another thing we humans have a difference of opinion on with your people. We believe in service, yes. But we do not believe that the needs of the many outweigh the rights of the one. Each being owns their own life and the right to choose what they do with it, so long as it is not detrimental to another."

"A foreign concept indeed for Vulcan," T'Pau noted wryly. "We are taught from our earliest age that we live to serve."

"Yeah, I've heard that one," Jon nodded. "Nothing wrong with service to your people. But you live to _live_ , T'Pau. To wring every last second out of it while you're here."

"Your people do seem to embrace that philosophy," she nodded.

"Which brings us back to what we do now," Jon said simply. "I'm not going to live according to the dictates of someone else. Never have and never will. That said. . .how would a Vulcan put this?" he mused. "How's this? I am not opposed to a closer examination of the bonding experience, so long as it is agreeable to you. Agreeable to you because it's _agreeable to you_ , and not because a _tel_ makes it so. Understand?"

She looked at him for a long moment, remembering her thoughts as she watched Mister Cox carry Jonathon Archer through the desert. Syrran might well have sacrificed her for the greater good. Surak almost certainly would have. T'Les had certainly attempted to do so with her own daughter. Soval had done likewise, though with different goals.

But this man would not sacrifice a single person simply because it was 'logical'. He might do so if there was no other way to accomplish his mission and he would be equally likely to sacrifice himself should it prove necessary.

But he would never sacrifice _her_. She knew that as surely as she knew that the fires of the Forge we as unforgiving as they were beautiful. It was a certainty. Something she had seen little of in her life.

"I would also find this agreeable," she said firmly. "Not because of any _tel_ that might or might not exist between us, but because I find you to be an honorable man. One worthy of respect. Even devotion."

She waited for what seemed like an eternity for Archer to smile. When he finally did, it felt as if a mighty weight had been lifted from her and she could breathe again after smothering for a very long time.

 **STE STE STE STE**

"There is an empty post on the High Council," Kuvak said evenly. "The seat for Cultural Affairs has been vacated due to. . .issues relating to the ability of the former occupant of that chair to fulfill her duties."

Translation; _Because she was a Romulan and had been helping V'Las pervert all aspects of Vulcan culture, particularly with regards to the Kir'Shara and the teachings of Surak, as well as attempting to bend public opinion to the will of the former Chairman of the High Command_. She was currently occupying a cell in the same prison as Kovek.

"It is my opinion that T'Pau of Vulcan would be the best possible choice to fill that role," Kuvak said evenly, an eyebrow raising slightly as he almost dared anyone to defy him. With two of Savaan's commandos behind him that was unlikely.

Charles Tucker's presence might also have had something to do with that. The human was unobtrusive, sitting in a corner with his Vulcan _aduna_ , in a conversation only they two were party to. But his presence as a backer of Kuvak was enough to ensure that everyone was on their best behavior. Even for Vulcans.

"T'Pau, is this a position you are willing to undertake?" Kuvak asked carefully.

"Before she answers," Subat said suddenly, "I wish to be heard." Several eyebrows shot up at that, but Subat ignored them. He looked at T'Pau instead.

"I ask this knowing it is a private matter," he admitted carefully, "but your answer will help determine what I say next. I am given to understand that you are now bonded to the human, Jonathon Archer. A _koon ut tel_ , in fact. Is this true, and has it been verified?"

"It is," she nodded almost regally. "And it has," she added, thinking that T'Pol had verified it so that was technically true.

"Then I would make a suggestion," Subat looked at Kuvak and then to the others. "I submit that T'Pau, despite her learning in the ways of Surak, is not perhaps an appropriate choice for such a seat as Cultural Minister." Eyebrows threatened to go through hairlines at that.

"I would submit that T'Pau would instead be a more excellent candidate for my position as Minister of Off World Affairs," he told the group. There was outright movement among his peers at that.

"I have tried always to live my life by Surak and the principles taught by him," Subat explained. "Discovery of his original writings, unedited and unabridged, is a monumental event in our history, colleagues. Perhaps nothing since the introduction of logic by Surak has had the impact upon our people that this will have." He paused, hands coming to rest before him.

"I wish to devote time to the study of these writings," he admitted. "I realize that this may seem like a selfish or indulgent endeavor to some. Yet I believe that a renewed interest in the Kir'Shara among our people will be inevitable as word of this discovery spreads. There will be many of our people who will wish to do as I do. I believe that I am merely the first, and that simply because I was in a position to learn of this before so many others." He looked around him again.

"I do not believe this to be a selfish indulgence. I believe it will become something of a trend among our people. Making me what the humans would call a 'trend setter'," he added with what passed for humor for a Vulcan.

"You are certain you wish to pursue this course?" Kuvak asked, concern plain in his voice. "Our renewed interest in the Kir'Shara will likewise be accompanied by a change in our dealings with those of other worlds and cultures. The revelation that V'Las was a traitor has left us facing the fact that we have dealt poorly with others. We must correct that."

"And who better to do this than someone free of the bias that pervades our society where off-worlders are concerned?" Subat nodded as if Kuvak had made his point for him. An action that made Jon instantly suspicious that the two old Vulcans had cooked this up between them before hand.

"T'Pau will also be able to take advantage of Commodore Archer's well known relations with several cultures. The fact that he has chosen a Vulcan mate will perhaps make them more favorably inclined to grant T'Pau an audience when it is needful. The fact that we have a minister who has chosen a mate not of Vulcan will likewise surely soften our image among many cultures who view us unfavorably now, not least of which is because of V'Las' treatment of them over past years. Also," he admitted, "replacing me is another sign that Vulcan earnestly seeks improved relations with others. While I was not a party to V'Las' actions, I _was_ responsible for our relations with others under his ruinous power reign. Memories are long where such things are concerned. Better to remove such an issue from the table before ever taking the seat."

"That is extremely logical," Kuvak admitted. "And I see in no way where your decision is a selfish one," he added and several other heads nodded. "Your reasoning is sound and takes into consideration that which is best for all Vulcan as well as yourself. Such is not selfishness," he concluded firmly.

"I assume that you will be amenable to a satisfactory period of tutelage should T'Pau agree to this proposal?" he asked.

"I would be, but also recommend that Soval be assigned to her as advisor," Subat nodded. "I know that the humans have little love for him, but Soval acted as he did on orders from V'Las, orders that we allowed him to issue though he lacked the authority to do so. The blame for much of Soval's 'reputation' rests firmly with those of us seated at this table who did not work against V'Las. Which Soval _has_ done," he reminded them.

It was obvious that Archer was less than pleased by this suggestion, but Kuvak was pleased that the human did not object. He himself was not entirely sure that Soval was a suitable advisor, but he did believe in allowing the man to redeem himself. Such a position would allow Vulcan to benefit from his experience among off-worlders and give T'Pau an advisor to ensure that the inevitable bureaucracy that pervaded such a work would function without issue all while giving Soval that opportunity to redeem himself. A suitable compromise.

To her credit T'Pau did not look to Archer for approval or permission before speaking. When she did speak, her voice was clear, firm, and assured.

"I would welcome the opportunity to meet those of other worlds and cultures in service to our people," she said. "Before I accept such a role, however, I must speak my mind. We have dealt poorly with others for many years. Accepting and naming V'Las as the reason is acceptable here, in private, but consider that foisting that blame on a single man, no matter how powerful or influential, could make other peoples wonder how we as a world allowed one man to exert such an influence over us." she made eye contact with each minister in turn as she surveyed the room.

"We must therefore adopt the position that we, Vulcan, have come to the conclusion that our policy of isolation is illogical. We have realized that as members of a greater community than just Vulcan, we cannot maintain ourselves separate and apart from all others, either from a position of perceived superiority nor in refusal to acknowledge that we have a responsibility to others as members of that larger community."

"It is my belief that if we undertake the rehabilitation of our reputation among other races with this attitude, we will eventually be successful. That is not to say we will be immediately successful, because we will not. Our situation did not come to this in a short time nor can it be fixed in one."

"Having said that, I seek your word that we will honestly and earnestly pursue this policy, and not merely give lip service to it as we continue to deal with others in the way in which they have become accustomed to Vulcan dealing with them," her voice grew slightly harder. "I will not be placed in a position of giving my word to an ambassador or head of state only to have that word broken by the actions of others. Such actions will not win us any cooperation among those of other worlds. We will simply be seen as the same old Vulcan."

"With that proviso, I would be honored to serve our people in such a fashion," she nodded her head slightly.

It was clear that her words had hit home, no doubt just as she had planned. Jon watched with carefully hidden amusement as the older Vulcans at the table exchanged eyebrows, realizing that they were not simply dealing with some desert girl with no experience in speaking to others or even in wielding authority. Added to that was the realization that she also, almost literally, spoke for Surak.

Kuvak surveyed the room, taking each eyebrow in turn before bringing his gaze to rest on T'Pau.

"I believe we have a consensus," he said simply. "Minister T'Pau."

 **STE STE STE STE**

Trip had ignored most of what was said at the meeting, present only at the insistence of Kuvak, probably as a threat to anyone who didn't want to go along with what he planned to do. Whatever that was. He had granted Trip a favor, so Trip was amenable to helping.

 _I am told that you requested a private audience with Koss_ , he heard T'Pol's voice echo in his mind.

 _You were?_

 _For what purpose would you seek such an audience_ , she asked evenly, her face betraying nothing as the two communicated telepathically.

 _Unfinished business_ , Trip shrugged easily. _All done now_.

 _I assume that Koss did not survive this discussion?_ her sarcasm was almost audible even through the telepathy.

 _You may make that assumption_ , Trip replied evenly.

 _Why?_ T'Pol asked. There was no demand. He sensed no 'why would you do something like that' in her question. She was looking for something. He could have pretended that she asked why she could make that assumption, but he didn't. Not this time.

 _Because he threatened you_ , he replied honestly. _Because he planned to use you. Him and his father. Because he tried to force you. Because I could, and I wanted to, because I cherish you and no one who plans to harm you will escape my wrath. Know that now_ , _my_ aduna, _before we go any further. Any hand raised to you I will take. There are no exceptions to that. None_.

She looked at him for several seconds before nodding once.

 _I find this most agreeable._

The two of them then listened as T'Pau became the youngest Minister to ever sit on Vulcan's High Council. The start of her climb to ruler of Vulcan.

Trip had to admit he was impressed. As soon as the meeting adjourned he tried to make his way to Jon for some long overdue hazing, but T'Pol prevented that once again by distracting him.

It was most agreeable.


	24. Chapter 24

_Remember that the author is not getting paid for this work and in no way intends any infringement on any rights of any kind with regards to Startrek:Enterprise. Totally okay not to sue him. Janos, Neera, et al, are the property of the author and may not be used without permission. Thanks._

 _Bad_

 **CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR**

"You seem to be in remarkably good health considering your recent activities, Commodore," Phlox smiled as he looked over the results of Archer's physical. They were in the medical area of the embassy where Phlox was still assisting. After the news of what Archer had been through had reached him, Phlox had expected his commander to be on the verge of collapse. Yet here he was, in much better shape that Phlox would have expected after such an ordeal.

 _Much_ better. Too much so, perhaps.

"Commodore, can you explain to me what happened to you, exactly, while you were in the forge?" he asked calmly, laying aside his scanner for a moment.

"Ah, well. . ." Jon looked a little flustered. "I don't exactly remember it all, Phlox."

"Why is that, do you think?" the physician persisted. He was looking very intently at Archer, and the Commodore found it a little unsettling.

"I, uh. . .well, the thing is, Phlox-"

"The Commodore was the receptor of two Vulcan _katras_ while in the Forge," T'Pau supplied helpfully from where she stood nearby. "The action was by force out of necessity, without his permission or any preparation. Because of this his memory has many gaps, some of them complete blanks."

"I wasn't going to tell him that," Jon sighed and T'Pau's face greened slightly.

"Apologies."

"Never mind," Jon waved it away. It was impossible for him to be angry with her.

"What would be involved in this. . .possession?" Phlox asked, turning to T'Pau. "As I recall, _katra_ is Vulcan for life force, or thereabout. Akin to what the humans call the Soul."

"Correct," T'Pau nodded, glancing at Jon almost as if asking his permission to continue. When he hesitated she frowned.

"He is your physician," she reminded him pointedly. "He must have the necessary information to ensure your wellness."

"Go ahead," Jon sighed in resignation. "So much for secrecy," he added.

"I assure you, Commodore, anything you say to me is in strictest confidentiality," Phlox assured him. "And as Minister T'Pau has stated, I need to know."

"What did you find, Phlox?" Jon asked, coming to attention for all that he was sitting down.

"Allow me to listen before I share the results," Phlox asked. "Please continue, Minister." Now showing the slightest bit of alarm, at least for a Vulcan, T'Pau nodded.

"You are correct in that the _katra_ is in essence the very life force of another being. In this case, the life force of two people, one already being present with the katra that was forced upon him. The Commodore carried the _katras_ of Syrann, and of Surak himself."

"What do you remember of this experience, Commodore?" Phlox asked, turning back to Jon.

"I remember hearing Surak talk to me," Jon admitted. "And I remember his essence imparting to me what was basically a history of his time, along with my very own personal copy of the _Kir'Shara_. He called it 'one final gift' that he would leave me before Suvann separated us."

"I see," Phlox nodded slowly. "Was that all?"

"Isn't that enough?" Jon asked. "Now what is it that's wrong with me, Phlox?" he demanded.

"There is nothing wrong with you, Commodore," Phlox surprised him. "And that is what's wrong. By all accounts you should still be showing signs of dehydration, exhaustion, malnutrition, just to name the obvious. You have endured a great deal of physical punishment, yet you show no signs of that now, just days later."

"Well, that's a good thing, right?" Jon frowned. "Why is that a problem?"

"Your brain scan shows some interesting changes in your neural make up," Phlox continued as if he hadn't heard. "Simply put, there are areas of your brain now active and working that were not before you went to the Forge. Coupled with your remarkable recovery from what most humans would have called a severe ordeal, that is enough to make me suspicious."

"Of what?" Jon demanded. "Are you saying there's something wrong with my brain?"

"Not at all," Phlox assured him. "Just the opposite, in fact. Your scans show you are completely healthy, Commodore."

"Then what is the problem?" Jon almost grated.

"You shouldn't be," Phlox said simply. "As I've already said, there are a number of maladies that you should still be recovering from, yet you are not. Nor is there any indication that you ever had them, though I know you did. Further, your increased brain activity is a complete mystery. There are areas of your brain active that humans do not use. At least not that your medical science has ever determined."

"I do not see the problem," T'Pau entered the conversation again. "The Commodore is very intelligent, Doctor."

"As is evidenced by his command of _Enterprise_ ," Phlox nodded in agreement. "That is not the issue. There is absolutely no scientific explanation for this increased stimulation in your neural activity. Pathways that should not be active or working, or even present for that matter, are."

"Are what?" Jon asked.

"Present, active and working," Phlox repeated. "There is no explanation, yet there is evidence of it right here," he indicated the scanner.

"Will it prevent me from commanding the _Enterprise_?" Jon asked, a hint of worry creeping into his voice.

"Far from it," Phlox smiled again. "If anything, you should find much of what you do far easier now. There is something I would like to ask, however."

 **STE**

"Remarkable," Delana Grix murmured. She was standing behind a semi-conscious Archer, her hands on his temples. A slightly suspicious and highly watchful T'Pau stood nearby, fighting to keep a frown of discomfort from her features. This Betazoid was highly attractive.

"You mean you actually found somethin'?" Trip asked, only to receive a very human-like elbow in his ribs from an openly frowning T'Pol.

"What?" Trip asked, his face a mask of innocence.

"You were correct, Phlox," Delana continued as if no one had spoken. They were all gathered on Reaper's cavernous medical bay, the area sealed off with two of Hunter's men standing guard outside.

"The pathways are permanently active?" Phlox asked, excitement creeping into his voice.

"They are," she nodded, her eyes still closed as she probed Jon's mind. "I've never seen anything like it." Her eyes opened. "Actually, that's not true," she amended, looking at T'Pol.

"What?" she asked.

"When I. . .when I assisted you, in the Expanse," Delana replied. "I saw your scans. The Commodore's scans are similar in make-up to yours. Not identical of course, nor even closely related, but. . .similar. The waves and patterns are. . .not all of them, but many of them are very similar."

"So he's a Vulcan, now?" Trip asked, dodging another elbow aimed at his ribs.

"No, Trip, he's not a Vulcan," Delana sighed. "But. . .his neural paths are no longer strictly human, either," she added. "Very unique."

"You should both be aware that I am not, strictly speaking, entirely Vulcan," T'Pol said evenly. "I am in fact half Romulan."

"Fascinating," Delana murmured. "That would explain a great deal about your. . .difficulty, and your ability to deal with it for so long unaided."

"I was not completely unaided," T'Pol replied, looking at Phlox.

"I was not much help, T'Pol," Phlox admitted sadly. "If not for Delana, I would have been able to do nothing more."

"For which I am in your debt," T'Pol told the beautiful Betazoid. "Both of you," she looked back at Phlox.

"There is no debt," Delana smiled beautifully. Before she could say more Jon began to come around.

"Well," he said groggily. "Are we going to do this or what?"

"It is already finished, Commodore," Delana laughed. "You're in excellent shape." She move to assist him is sitting up, only to be cut off from doing so as T'Pau moved to do so herself. Delana hid a smirk by turning to shut off the scanner she had used before her telepathic scan.

"You're sure?" Jon asked, sitting up.

"Very sure," Delana nodded. "You have some very interesting changes in your neural make-up, as Phlox had already told you, but nothing harmful. In fact they should be beneficial in the long run."

"How so?" he asked.

"Well, your cognitive responses will be faster. Sharper. Your ability to reason out problems should be enhanced. Your memory will likely improve as well. Perhaps not photographic, as I think you would refer to it, but similar. All in all, very beneficial to a man in your position I should think."

"But he _is_ well, correct?" T'Pau asked, rather more forcefully than she might have otherwise.

"He is well, Minister," Delana assured her.

"That is most satisfactory," the little Vulcan nodded firmly.

"Well," Trip rubbed his hands together, "now that that's behind us, I'm hungry. Jon, you oughta be hungry after all this testin' and what not. Right?"

T'Pol resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

"I could eat," Jon agreed, rising. "What's cooking?"

"I'm thinking about a steak, myself," Trip beamed, then cut his smile short at a mighty frown from Vulcan's newest Minister.

"Or, we could have something else."

 **STE**

"Well Jon, it seems as if you've managed to pull off quite the coup," Forrest smiled over the screen. "Nicely done, though you may never get official recognition for it."

"I didn't do it for any recognition," Jon shrugged. "What's next for me?" he asked, wondering what he was going to do. He and T'Pau still hadn't worked things out. He might still end up leaving Starfleet. He was resigned to that and it no longer weighed on him like it would have a month ago.

"That's still up in the air," Forrest admitted. "We've gotten several official and unofficial messages from the new government on Vulcan. Your actions there seem to have shaken their tree loose somewhat. We're getting offers to assist us with ship building and weapons development as well as work on our own Warp Seven engines. Seems that the new Vulcan government values Earth a good bit more than the old one."

"Well that should be a good thing," Jon nodded. "Sounds like we'll be able to kick start our program a bit, now." He leaned in to the screen. "You do realize, I hope, that Starfleet is going to need warships as well as exploration vessels, Admiral. The Romulan threat isn't going away just because we managed to upset their apple cart this time."

"That was one of the unofficial messages," Forrest nodded. "An Admiral Sopek contacted me, interested in a joint ship building program, believe it or not. A new class of ship designed to meet the Romulan threat, or any other that we might face in the future. Jointly crewed, no less, with the possibility of opening positions to other races as well, later on."

"Well, I'll be," Jon breathed. "That was quick work."

"Sopek was extremely interested in our newest class of warship," Forrest continued evenly. "I didn't know exactly what to tell him so I admitted it was classified for the moment but I would get back to him if I could. What do you think I should do about that?"

"I have no idea," Jon admitted. "I'll have to get back to you."

 **STE**

"No."

"Trip, be reasonable," Jon soothed. "We're looking at a whole new era of Human/Vulcan relations, here. Using your ship technology we could build a fleet capable of protecting both planets along with our colonies, and eventually our allies."

"You ain't got any allies to speak of," Trip mentioned. "And just because your new girlfriend is a Vulcan Minister don't mean we're all gonna be friends now."

"She's not my girlfriend!" Jon shot back automatically.

"That ain't what I heard," Trip grinned maliciously. "Way I heard it, you two are connected on a spiritual level."

"Trip," Jon said warningly.

"I'm just sayin'," Trip held his hands up placatingly. "Gotta admit, you are the _last_ one I expected to ever fall for a Vulcan, Jon," he added, twisting the knife just a bit. T'Pol had kept him from this for a long time, but now he was getting the chance to rub it in.

"Dammit Trip!"

"Hey, you better start being nicer to me," Trip said with mock indignity. "You want somethin' o' mine, don't forget."

" _Adun_ , that is enough," T'Pol's voice came from nowhere and it was Jon's turn to laugh maliciously at the look of alarm on Trip's face.

"Sweetie, I didn't know you were around," Trip turned on the charm.

"You only call me Sweetie when you have erred," T'Pol noted. "I told you that antagonizing of the Commodore over his. . .situation, would not be tolerated."

"Yeah, well," Trip muttered lamely. "You take all the fun outta life, you know that?"

"Not all the fun, _Adun_ ," T'Pol said calmly and Trip felt his heart race a bit.

"Boy, look how this has turned," Jon almost leered at his friend. "What was that you were saying, Trip? Before _your_ girlfriend came in?" he needled.

"Commodore, that is improper," T'Pol responded at once. "While the appellation might accurately be applied to your and Minister T'Pau's relationship at this time, I am in fact Captain Tucker's _aduna_ ; his wife. Please remember that," she admonished gently.

"Okay," Jon nodded meekly. "Sorry."

"There is no offense where none is meant," T'Pol said diffidently. "What is it that the Commodore wants that you are refusing to give him?" she asked her husband.

"He wants my ships," Trip told her, all pretense of humor now gone.

"I don't want you ships, Trip, just the plans to build our own!" Jon shot back.

"Why is that a problem?" T'Pol asked.

"First, cause I don't want 'em to have it," Trip admitted. "Second because I'm not sure just yet that I can trust 'em. Third, did I mention I don't want 'em to have it?"

"Repeatedly," T'Pol nodded. "I do not see that as an acceptable obstacle when we are talking about the defense of both Earth and Vulcan. The second point, however, I must concur with, at least for the moment. Commodore, you may yet be disappointed in your request."

"Trip, we're all on the same side here," Jon tried again.

"I aint' so sure o' that sometimes," Trip said honestly. "I've seen too many bureaucrats make a real hash outta things, Jon. I ain't sure I want any o' you with this kind o' firepower."

"But it's okay for you to have it?" Jon challenged.

"Has been so far," Trip shrugged. "You ain't got no call to complain and neither has anybody else. Well, not that matters," he amended. "No matter what Kuvak and your gir-, _Minister T'Pau_ ," he corrected himself with a glance at T'Pol, "say, I'm a pariah on Vulcan and will be for the foreseeable future. Be a long time 'fore I can set foot on the place again. For me I don't care, but T'Pol might want to visit. Sometime. Eventually."

"So?"

"So, as long as I got this ship, and you don't, nobody can just up and decide that I need to pay for what happened at Gronti, or anywhere else," Trip said flatly. "I start letting you and the Vulcans have your way, next thing you know ole Trip's an outlaw and you're all chasin' him."

"That would never happen," Jon said earnestly.

"You can swear to that, can you?" Trip asked evenly. "Be absolutely sure and certain of it?"

Jon's confidence faltered slightly in the face of that challenge.

"What I thought," Trip nodded, his point made. "Earth and Vulcan can build their own ships and do just fine doing it. Have been for years. The two together should be able to do just fine I imagine. You don't need me or my stuff."

"The Vulcans think this ship is a Starfleet vessel," Jon admitted then. "They want information on it as part of the exchange of information we will share if the program goes forward."

"That ain't my fault or concern," Trip was shaking his head. "I built this ship for my own reasons, and my own use. It's mine and it stays that way." He sounded for all the world like a child refusing to share his toys with another.

" _Adun_ , there is no need to adopt such an unreasonable attitude," T'Pol tried.

"It's not unreasonable," Trip declared, shaking his head as he stood. "It's self-preservation. I don't trust either government as far as I can throw 'em. It might all be good right now, but what about fifty years from now? A hundred years? What then?"

"What difference does that make to you?" Jon asked. "You won't be here then, in all likelihood."

"That ain't the point," Trip shook his head again, realizing he'd nearly made a mistake. For all that he loved and trusted Jonathon Archer, that secret stayed with him and T'Pol and those of his crew who knew the truth.

"Look, I've done things that might make some consider me an outlaw," Trip tried to take a reasonable tack this time. "Even Kuvak made the statement that some would object to me havin' this ship because it was strong enough to rule the quadrant. Now I don't think he meant that in anything like a threatening tone, but I can't be sure of that, now can I? And even if he don't mean it like that, what's to say the rest won't mean it, later on. I got to be careful, Jon. Unlike you, I don't have a planetary government protecting me. I'm on my own."

Jon had his mouth open to reply but stopped short as Trip's words hit him. He hadn't considered that, and Trip did make a solid point. He was, for all intents and purposes, an entity unto himself these days. On his own.

"What if we could arrange some kind of written treaty, then?" he asked after a moment of consideration. "What if we could negotiate a treaty between you and whoever else you want and the Earth and Vulcan governments? One that absolved you of anything you may or may not have done before that treaty was signed?"

"That won't cut it, cause I ain't done yet," Trip said plainly. "Before I got into all this with you, I was killin' Orions. I aim to go right on killin' 'em now this is over, just as soon as I can get back out there. And I won't stop until there is no slave trade in the Alpha Quadrant. I'm not gonna stop because the UE or the Vulcans are squeamish."

"Surely not all Orions are part of the slave trade, Trip," Jon suggested.

"Then they need to keep better company," Trip's reply was flat. "Tell you what," he said suddenly, his face going firm. "You go ahead and see about your treaty, if you can. I'll take a look at it. That's all I promise you. I don't like it, then I don't sign it. And don't bother puttin' anything in there about me agreein' to share any and every thing I know or do with you, either. I'll decide what you get and how, whether it's ship specs or information on what I'm plannin' to do."

"That's as good as it gets," he added when Jon seemed about to argue.

"All right," Jon sighed wearily. "I'll see what I can do. Meantime, I need to get back to _Enterprise_. I've got paperwork waiting for me up to my ears." He shook hands with Trip and gave T'Pol a very brief hug before heading for _Reaper_ 's boat bay.

"You must try to be a bit more reasonable," she said at last, when they were completely alone.

"That was me bein' reasonable," Trip told her.

"Is it so much to ask?" she inquired. "To share what you have with those who need it?"

"I'll have to get back to you on that one," he admitted. "I gotta make a call."

 **STE**

"No."

"That's what I said," Trip nodded firmly. "Just wanted to make sure that's how you wanted it."

"I was telling you no," Janos corrected, catching Trip by surprise. "You will not sign any treaty in exchange for ship technology."

"I wasn't gonna," Trip shrugged. "That was Jon's idea. I told him he could write it up and I'd look at it but that was all."

"As far as sharing anything, ship related or otherwise, they will have to prove to me that they are trustworthy enough to have it," Janos continued. Trip was nodding again.

"I said the same thing."

"Good," his boss nodded. "We'll have to see what happens with all these changes. In the meantime, you may consider what of your tech base you can share with them that might help while not giving them an edge over us. And by share I mean 'sell', while we're on the subject," he added.

"Works for me," Trip nodded. "If they trace this back to you it might cause you a problem down the line," he warned.

"They won't trace it back to me," Janos smiled smugly. "I'm merely a bookstore owner, after all. What use would I have for a fleet of warships?"

"Yeah," Trip mused. "Guess it's down to me, then," he sighed.

"You knew this would happen," Janos reminded him.

"I ain't complaining," Trip assured him. "Just statin' facts. I ain't worried, either. Earth ain't a threat at all and Vulcan would need their whole fleet, what's left of it, to take just two of us, let alone the whole match."

"I would much prefer we avoid something like that altogether," Janos said tersely. He was reminded yet again that his young charge was somewhat. . .blunt, about such things.

"So would I," Trip agree, putting his boss at ease. "That's why I'm plannin' to leave in the next day or so, barring some kinda issue I can't see. We'll head back out to tracking down slavers and pirates. No one here should care about that one way or the other."

"True," Janos mused. "Very well, then. Keep me advised on what happens with the others. We may agree to something, depending on their attitude. We'll let you be the face they see, however."

"Works for me," Trip agreed. "I'll talk to you later."

"Indeed."

 **STE**

"Say what now?"

"The Andorian Government would like to extend their official thanks to you for your intervention in what could have resulted in a very costly war," Shran repeated, smiling at Trip. "But there's a problem."

"Ain't there always?" Trip asked. "And I don't need no thanks, official or otherwise," he added.

"That's good because there won't be any, since the whole thing never happened," Shran took great delight in sharing.

"How's that again?" Trip frowned.

"It seems that this new Vulcan government is already reaching out to other races, including my own," Shran shrugged. "The Emperor made it known that he intended to honor you for what you did and Vulcan suggested that any such thanks be done quietly, or preferably not at all, since allowing the general public of either of our races to know what had happened would be. . .counterproductive was I think the word they used," Shran was still grinning.

"Guess it would at that," Trip mused. "Well, so what, then? You callin' to gloat because I don't get to be a big hero?"

"You wound me, Tucker," Shran made a dramatic grab at his chest. "No, I'm the messenger because of our friendship. To let you know that while officially nothing happened, the Andorian government is fully aware of your actions and stands in your debt. That means you may call upon us should you be in need," he specified.

"Well," Trip leaned back. "That's kind of you, Shran. I appreciate that."

"I appreciate your preventing a Vulcan surprise attack on our world," Shran almost snorted. "A favor now and again seemed the least we could do."

"Hey, nothin' wrong with favors," Trip shrugged. "Better than money, sometimes."

"But not ale," Shran laughed. "When next our paths cross, we will drown our problems in the nectar of Andor, Pinkskin Tucker."

"So what would your people think about there not being any more Orions or Nausicans runnin' around? Think anyone there would have a problem with an end to the slave trade and the pirate attacks?"

"No one that matters."

 **STE**

"I do not understand how we can create a treaty with an individual, Commodore. Even one so special as Captain Tucker."

T'Pau was seated next to Jon at his desk, looking at the draft of his proposal for Trip.

"I wish you would call me Jon, T'Pau," he sighed again. "At least when we're alone."

"Very well," she nodded. "But that does not change the facts, Jon." He smiled at the sound of his name coming from her voice.

"I don't know that he'll sign it anyway," Jon told her. "But he has technology and know how that both of our governments want. I'm trying to get it."

"You cannot simply order him to turn it over to you?" T'Pau asked.

"Ah, you may have noticed that Trip doesn't really take orders too well," Jon said diplomatically.

"A man with that much power must answer to some kind of authority," T'Pau said pointedly.

"And there you've hit the nail on the head," Jon nodded, leaning back.

"I do not understand."

"You've gotten down to the main point," Jon clarified. "Trip isn't about to submit to Earth or Vulcan. He doesn't trust either government, and considering their track records I can't blame him really. Problem is, they both want something he has."

"You believe they will try and take it?" T'Pau asked, settling in beside him.

"I hope not," Jon said sincerely. "That would end badly."

"For Captain Tucker?"

"For them," he shook his head. "There is no way we can touch him, T'Pau. None. His one ship destroyed a dozen Vulcan cruisers all by itself, and there are four more out there somewhere, right now. Along with who knows what else."

"He truly is a warlord then," T'Pau said softly.

"Not yet," Jon shook his head. "If we don't push him, then he'll always be there when we need him. But if either side starts to crowd him, then I don't know how he will respond. I used to know him well, T'Pau, but. . .not anymore. There's been a change come over him this last year or so."

"Not for the better, I take it?"

"I can't say," Jon answered. "And, I'm biased," he admitted. "Trip saved my life more than once and nearly died correcting a monumental mistake I made in the Expanse. It seems like he never fails to do the right thing, but. . . ."

"But who decides what that is?" T'Pau supplied when Archer trailed off.

"Yeah," was the concerned reply. "Exactly."

 **STE**

" _Adun_ , you must consider your future," T'Pol said gently as she lay wrapped in his arms in their bedroom aboard the _Reaper_. "You will need friends. Allies."

"And who will that be?" he asked plainly. "No one I make a 'deal' with here will be around in a hundred years. Well, maybe T'Pau," he amended. "You know as well as I do that governments tend to forget deals that aren't convenient to them, _aduna_."

"That is a unfortunate truth," T'Pol had to agree. "In the meantime, can you afford to be enemies, or even antagonistic, to both Earth and Vulcan?"

"They don't worry me," Trip admitted easily. "We're too powerful for them to really threaten, especially in space. There's just not much they can do. When it comes right down to it, I'm not worried about me, either, to be honest." He looked down at her.

"Me?" she almost frowned, suppressed it, then decided to allow it to show.

"Your relationship with me could prevent you from going home," Trip nodded absently, clearly thinking. "Keep you from seeing your mother if you ever decided you wanted to. From visiting your home or any friends. . .well, colleagues you'd say I guess. I don't want that."

"Adun, while I am gratified and grateful for your considerations on my behalf, they are unnecessary," T'Pol said quietly, her hand caressing his face gently. "I doubt I will ever wish to see T'Les or Soval again after what they have done. I can, objectively, see why my mother at least acted as she did, but that does not make up for her actions. Nor does it excuse them. And there cannot begin to be an excuse for Soval, who merely acted in his own best interest. At least my mother was working for a goal that would, and has benefitted all of Vulcan."

"So put your mind at ease where I am concerned, my _ashaya_ ," she almost whispered. "Where you are is my home, now. I will be content to spend the rest of my days with you here, aboard your ship. We will live our lives as we see fit with no worry about what takes place on Vulcan, or on Earth for that matter."

Trip leaned down to kiss her. A kiss that eventually grew into something else, and soon there was no more talk of Vulcan, Earth, treaties or anything else.

Not for a good long while.

 **STE**

 _A/N; sorry it's been so long between updates. I've been so busy it's crazy, and sick on top of that. I'll try not to take so long between updates again. I'm coming to the end of my fanfic career it looks like so I admit I may be dragging it out a bit because I don't want it to end. Thanks for reading. Thanks even more for reviewing._

 _BadKarma_


	25. Chapter 25

_No money made from this work. Writer works solely for his own amusement and the entertainment of others, and in no way intends any copyright infringement. It would be illogical to sue._

 **STE**

"There is a memorial planned in three days for the families of those who lost loved ones at the Gronti Nebula and in the ensuing aftermath," T'Pau's image told T'Pol. "You and Captain Tucker are requested to attend."

Many of those who had perished at Gronti had been bonded mates of other Vulcans, a large number of whom had shortly thereafter followed their mates into death. It was one of the worst parts of the bonding of two people. Close bonds rarely saw one survive the death of the other.

"I do not believe that to be appropriate," T'Pol said evenly. "Captain Tucker will doubtless be the object of a good deal of blame because of the events at Gronti. Many will hold him personally responsible for the deaths there, as well as the resulting aftermath. I do not think it would be wise for him to be present at such a ceremony. Nor do I believe he will wish to attend."

"That is understandable, but his presence is almost a necessity as he was instrumental in the overthrow of V'Las," T'Pau replied. "The two of you are expected to be there."

"I am sure by now that you are aware that my husband does not, in fact, answer to Starfleet, nor to the Earth government," T'Pol's voice betrayed the slightest irritation at T'Pau's 'insistence'. "And you may rest assured that the days of my own service to Vulcan have ended. I will not serve a people who turn their back upon their own people, or those who call them allies."

"That time has ended, T'Pol," T'Pau told her flatly. "There is a new government on Vulcan, as you are well aware. The High Command itself has been completely disbanded. The Fleet now answers directly to the Council, with the High Minister, Kuvak, as Commander-in-Chief. A model taken from the humans, in fact."

"Regardless of any changes made by yourself and others, the fact remains that the Vulcan I served was perfectly willing to allow me to perish rather than treat me for a disease that was the result of a violent attack," T'Pol's voice was firm. "And you certainly need no reminder of how I was being blackmailed for my actions at P'Jemm. Nor in Vulcan's disgraceful refusal to assist Earth in their time of need. Another thing I was to be 'punished' for, if you will recall. You will find sympathy and support for Vulcan in any form, new or old, in short supply aboard this ship, Minister."

"You will need friends, T'Pol," T'Pau noted. "There will come a time when you need friends somewhere. It would not be unwise to cultivate such friends here on Vulcan."

"What do you believe that you can offer one such as I, Minister?" T'Pol almost sneered openly. "For that matter, what do you believe you can offer my husband? He has zero interest in Vulcan politics. He counts a handful of Vulcans as friends and colleagues but otherwise it would not be possible for him to care any less about what happens to Vulcan, or those who live there. As for me," T'Pol's head lifted slightly, "I am all too aware of my Romulan heritage, and what those on Vulcan will think of me. Do think of me, for that matter, even without such knowledge. No, I think there is little to no reason for us to step foot on Vulcan again, barring open warfare with the Romulans."

"You will turn your back on your home and family then?" T'Pau asked.

"It was not I who first betrayed Vulcan, Minister," T'Pol's voice became frosty. "Even my own mother was willing to sell me into Romulan slavery if it furthered her needs. I owe Vulcan nothing. My husband owes them even less."

"No, it is we who owe you," T'Pau acknowledged. "I do know that your mother would welcome the opportunity to speak with you. To try and put things right between you."

"When I think of a way she can atone for trying to force me into the hands of a man who meant me physical harm, at best, I will let you know and you can forward that information to her," T'Pol said flatly. "Will there be anything else, Minister?"

"Has Captain Tucker made a decision on whether or not he is willing to assist us with our joint building program?" T'Pau asked.

"He has, and he will not," T'Pol replied evenly. "He is of the opinion that you do not require his assistance to develop new ships and does not wish to place himself at a disadvantage with either Vulcan or Earth. That decision is somewhat final, I believe," she added.

"That is regrettable," T'Pau said just as evenly. "It will almost certainly lead to pointless and senseless deaths should open warfare with Romulus become a fact."

"You have learned well from Captain Archer already it seems," T'Pol did openly sneer this time. "Your attempt to invoke guilt for events that have not occurred is illogical, Minister. It is also beneath someone of your new rank. Perhaps you have attained such rank at too young an age."

"Perhaps," T'Pau's face darkened at that barb. "I see no logic in continuing our conversation, T'Pol. Live long, and prosper."

"And you, Minister," T'Pol did not return the ta'al as she ended the transmission.

"Well, that went well," Trip said from where he'd listened out of T'Pau's sight.

"Her insistence is intolerable," T'Pol allowed some of her displeasure to show. "It is absolutely ridiculous for her to expect our presence at a memorial for people we helped to kill. Our presence would be an insult to those still grieving the loss of loved ones. She knows that as well as I do. I have no idea what she is thinking even proposing such a thing."

"We won't be here anyway," Trip shrugged. "We'll be leaving soon. Got a line on an Orion base of operations near a place called Castor. Agreeably not far from Risa, since I promised the crew leave there. We'll head to Risa tomorrow, probably, and from there move on to Castor. Time to start killin' Orions again." His voice took on an edge at that.

"Very well," T'Pol nodded. "Risa is an appropriate place for what you would call a honeymoon, I believe," she added with just a hint of a smile.

"Hadn't even considered it," Trip said straight faced until he lost the battle with his grin. "I already had reservations made for us. As Captain, I'll be spending the whole five days on leave," he sniffed importantly. "The other mere mortals will likely have to make do with seventy-two hours."

"A gross abuse of power, Captain," T'Pol raised an eyebrow.

"I'm an abusive Captain," Trip's grin stayed put. "Ask anybody, they'll tell ya."

 **STE**

"I told you he wouldn't come," Jon reminded T'Pau as she did the Vulcan equivalent of a sulk.

"I did not get to speak with Captain Tucker," T'Pau replied. "If I had I believe I could have persuaded him to attend. I was unable to get past T'Pol, however."

"I like T'Pol, but I know Trip," Jon shook his head. "You may not have seen him, but you can bet he was listening. And she didn't tell you anything that he didn't or wouldn't agree with."

"Be that as it may, it is most improper for them to refuse to attend such a ceremony."

"T'Pau, is it really?" Jon asked reasonably. "Trip did kill most of those who died in the battle. And honestly, as badly as he despises Vulcan for the way they've treated T'Pol, you might not want him there as much as you think. Trip is nothing if not blunt. There's not a diplomatic bone in his body. At least not that he's willing to spare on Vulcan," he amended.

"I was unaware that he possessed diplomatic skills," T'Pau's eyebrow rose.

"Ah, that was my way of saying he doesn't," Jon admitted. "Trip negotiates from a position of power if he negotiates at all. The Xindi literally cowered at the mention of his name, T'Pau. Their name for him is Destroyer."

"He is not a suitable mate for a woman of Vulcan," T'Pau almost muttered.

"She's not a Vulcan," Jon shrugged. "Not entirely anyway. And Vulcan hasn't been very good to her, either," he pointed out.

"That is in the past, Jonathon." She almost added 'Archer' out of habit, but caught it in time not to. "We must look to the future."

"It's in the past for you because you didn't experience it," Jon reminded her. "For T'Pol, and now Trip, it's still right there," he tapped his own forehead. "And will be for a while I'm certain. Let them go," he advised. "You can't really stop 'em anyway. And there's no sense in antagonizing either of them. Let some time pass and then we can try again to approach them about. . .well, about all of it. Any of it."

"In the meantime, we have much work to do," T'Pau nodded. "Admiral Sopek wishes to move ahead with the joint ship building program as soon as possible. Because of V'Las' actions, the Vulcan fleet is much depleted."

"True," Jon nodded, frowning. "My people will be willing to work right away, that's for sure. We need to start building ships as soon as we can. Atop of that, we have to start training crews to man them. We need qualified people ready to man those ships as soon as they're ready."

"That will be for others to over see," T'Pau said, moving to a subject she had been avoiding. "The Vulcan High Council has a proposal for you, Jonathon. Jon," she amended.

"Oh?"

 **STE**

"Sir, I admit I'm a bit surprised at this."

"I'm sure you are, Jon," Forrest nodded. "Your girlfriend was pretty insistent on this, however, and Kuvak backed her. I hear the President endorsed it whole-heartedly. May have been because of a nasty rumor I've been hearing," he grinned.

"I'm sure," Jon chuckled, letting the 'girlfriend' comment slide. This time. "And it wasn't a rumor, though I guess it is on hold, now."

"Just the threat seemed to have been enough to start things moving in the right direction," Forrest shrugged. "I'm glad for it, but losing you and the _Enterprise_ both is a hard blow."

The 'proposition' was for the _Enterprise_ to become a diplomatic vessel of sorts, ferrying Archer and T'Pau around to various potential allies as Earth and Vulcan tried to prepare for the threat of the Romulans. _Enterprise_ would be escorted by a Vulcan cruiser for protection and her MACO detachment would be doubled. One cargo bay would be devoted to housing for the platoon size unit, freeing up current quarters for an upgrade to allow for diplomatic quarters for Soval and an as yet unappointed UE diplomat to assist Archer. Probably a lawyer.

"My crew?" Jon asked.

"Sorry Jon," Forrest shook his head. "You'll get to keep Sato, since her skills will be priceless to you, but many of the rest will be coming home. You'll get a few Vulcan crewmen as well."

"I'd like Reed to take command of _Enterprise_ ," Jon asked.

"Not happening, Jon," Forrest was adamant. "He's slated for a command, but not _Enterprise_. He'll be taking one of the new ships out as soon as they're finished. He'll have that long to select and train his crew."

"Then who will we get?" Jon asked.

"I'll send you a good young XO candidate and you'll maintain command," Forrest told him. "You can train people up fairly quick as you travel and we need people, Jon. _Enterprise_ will be getting a refit, and part of that will include a slight mod to allow more berths. Take maybe two months they tell me, with the work being done on Vulcan. You'll have that long to work things out with Vulcan on how things will go." He leaned in, smiling.

"That will also give you and Minister T'Pau some personal time. Use it well, though, because I suspect it will be in short supply afterward for some time."

 **STE**

"So what happens to me?" Reed asked, frowning.

"You're going to get command of one of the new ships, Malcolm," Jon replied. "It should be ready in a year, maybe even less for all I know," he shrugged. "You'll have that long to ready a crew and prepare them, and yourself, for possible action against the Romulans."

Malcolm considered that in silence. He had not anticipated being offered command of anything by Starfleet after what he had gone through with Forrest, Black, and Gardner. Because of that, he had been seriously considering taking Trip, or at least Janos, up on the offer to join their fleet. The thought of serving on one of those magnificent vessels, let alone commanding one, was somewhat of a happy thought to be sure.

What to do?

"Something wrong, Malcolm?" Jon asked, seeing the look on his XO's face.

"I'll need some time to consider this, sir," Mal said at last. Surprise registered on Jon's face.

"Think about what?" he demanded. "This is a great career move for you, Commander. I admit I tried to get Forrest to place you in command of _Enterprise_ , but that was because I wanted someone I could trust in command, not because I wanted to deny you a shot at something more."

"I appreciate that sir," Reed said sincerely. "And had that happened I would have gladly accepted it. But. . .the truth is, I was already considering a move of my own. I still am, to be honest. I wanted to see this latest mission through before I made any kind of decision, and now I have. Seen it through, I mean," he added.

"Mal, you can't seriously be thinking you won't take this offer," Jon's voice was incredulous.

"Sir, with due respect, my trust in Starfleet Command isn't all that great," Mal admitted quietly. "They were prepared to imprison me not too long ago, if you'll recall. There's nothing to say that won't happen again at some point. It might be better to cut my losses now and move on."

"Malcolm, don't make any hasty decisions you'll regret later," Jon cautioned.

"My decision is in no way hasty, sir," Mal shot back. "I've had since before the Expanse to consider it."

"Look, if you don't want a new command, at least give me the chance to hit Forrest again for you to be given command of _Enterprise_ ," Jon tried again. "Give me something to work with, Mal. We need men like you, now more than ever."

Malcolm thought that one over briefly before nodding.

"I would be more likely to consider staying in Starfleet under those conditions," he said finally, thinking of a certain linguist. And the unresolved issues between them.

"But not certainly?" Jon couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"I'll have to get back to you on that, sir. First, let me ask you a delicate question. I will have to depend upon your discretion in this matter. . . ."

 **STE**

Hoshi was surprised when Malcolm Reed walked into the mess aboard Enterprise, not having realized he was back on board. She was shocked when Reed, tray in hand, headed for her table, where she was sitting alone reviewing what she knew of the Cordian language. As Commodore Archer's interpreter, she had to be fluent on all languages of the worlds he planned to visit with Minister T'Pau.

"May I, Lieutenant?" he asked properly.

"Of course, Commander!" she rushed to say, blushing at how she sounded. Reed took a seat and began to prepare his meal.

"Sir, I wanted to formerly apologize for-" Hoshi began.

"Unnecessary Lieutenant," Reed cut her off, his voice in no way unkind. "In point of fact, it is I who owes you an apology."

Hoshi blinked at that. Twice.

"I should not have reacted to your statement in the way I did," Reed admitted flatly. "In all honesty, I must admit to you that I am attracted to you, Lieutenant, and have been for some time. Your. . .accusations, let's go ahead and say, caught me by surprise because I had thought that my infatuation with you was apparent. It did not occur to me at the time that I had been so subtle that you might not have recognized that attraction."

"You insinuation made me angry because of the inherent unprofessional conduct it implied on my behalf. That I would make command decisions based on some kind of emotional or physical attachment to someone under my command. It quite honestly wounded my professional pride in a way no one else has ever managed to accomplish."

Hoshi lowered her gaze, face reddening.

"Added to that was the implied betrayal of yourself, which I may have imagined being a part of your tone," he admitted.

"On the planet, I had time to consider a great many things," Mal continued before he lost his steam. "Among them, why you would make such an accusation, if not questioning my professionalism. I could fathom only two reasons. Firstly, that you wanted to be included on the away team and were disappointed that I had chosen to allow Evans to accompany us instead." Hoshi raised her head to object, but an upraised hand stopped her. "I decided against that because of your reluctance to be a part of away missions in the past. You have shown very little interest in being included in off-ship missions, and even though this mission was on Vulcan, it was a decidedly non friendly visit, to put it mildly." Hoshi nodded but said nothing, waiting.

"The other reason, the reason I hope to be true, was that you were hurt, even jealous perhaps, at the thought that I had entered into a clandestine relationship, even a merely physical one, with Evans. That you were lashing out because of that hurt or jealousy." Hoshi's face darkened more.

"I have been offered a new job," Mal went on. "More than one, in fact. I could consider it three, I suppose. What I do, Lieutenant. . .Hoshi, will depend a great deal on how this conversation concludes. I have a narrow opportunity to remain aboard _Enterprise_. There is no guarantee that I will be allowed to stay, merely a chance. That opportunity will mean little to nothing if I am wrong about how you feel towards me. As the Commodore's official diplomatic interpreter, you will no longer be in the _Enterprise_ 's direct line of command. As such, the fact that I am in command will in no way make a relationship between us, assuming that you would want one, either improper or outside of regulations."

"I am quite taken with you, Hoshi Sato," Malcolm admitted, as honest at this moment as he had been in some time. As a security operative, lying was as natural to him as breathing. It wasn't something he thought about, he merely did it. But not this time.

"If there is no chance of our attempting such a relationship, then there is, quite honestly, no reason for me to remain aboard the _Enterprise_ ," he laid it out flatly. "I'm afraid that my future is in your hands, Miss Sato," he ventured a small smile, full of warmth. Something few besides her would ever see.

"As the Yanks are fond of saying, the ball is in your court."

The last few minutes notwithstanding. Hoshi Sato was actually quite difficult to surprise. She would often _show_ surprise at things, but it was as likely to be feigned as real. Hoshi was the very definition of 'wild child' and it took a great deal to shock her.

Right now, she was shocked. The object of many a late night fantasy in her quarters had just sat down beside her and declared that he was 'quite taken' with her. For a reserved Briton like Malcolm Reed, he might as well have made a ship wide announcement declaring his undying love for her.

There were many things she could have said at this moment. Things she could look back upon years later in fond memory, even share with her friends or possible children at some point in the distant future.

But then her 'wild child' took control. Instead of those memorable, romantic things, she decided on something much bolder. Something to shock Reed as much as he had shocked her. Something to feed her fantasies with, just a little. Just in case.

She leaned in to him, eyelids lowered, face in a deep blush, and said;

"That depends Commander," her voice was breathy and husky. "Do you own any handcuffs?"

 **STE**

"I got a question," Trip said as soon as Janos answered his call.

"Of course you do," Janos frowned. "And you just _had_ to ask it at," he looked away, then back, his frown growing, " _three fifteen in the bloody morning_!"

"Yeah, sorry 'bout that," Trip waved off what he considered to be an irrelevancy. "Anyway, here's the thing. If we aren't going to help them build ships, should we be building any more?"

"What?" Janos blinked, sitting back slightly.

"If we ain't gonna help this new, coalition, I guess, between Earth and Vulcan build ships that can take on the Romulans, should we maybe build a few more ourselves? I mean, there's gonna be a war, sooner or later. That's a guarantee."

"I had not thought about it," Janos admitted. "Surely five ships such as yours are enough to protect the Earth, Charles. And we have ten more of the smaller 'corvette' models you designed either under construction or already in service escorting merchant ships. That was a good idea, by the way," he added, smiling. "They are already paying for themselves, and our own ships are traveling at cost. We're showing a tidy profit I'm told."

"That's good to hear," Trip nodded, meaning it. "But you see what I mean?"

"Yes, I do," Janos sighed. "So our choice is to spend more money on our own vessels, or perhaps sell some of the design to the new coalition. Is that what you're saying?"

"Well, I aint' so much saying it as asking," Trip admitted. "We can't just sit in our corner and let things go the Romulan's way. If we wind up all alone then we still lose, really."

"True," Janos mused.

"And there's the problem of our crewmembers, too," Trip went on. "The Vulcan and Earth security services won't hesitate to abduct some of our people in order to torture our 'secrets' out of 'em."

"That would cause me to be angry," Janos' frown was much different this time. Predatory even.

"Me too, but it would still happen," Trip nodded. "Thing is, if I agree to help Jon and his gir-Minister T'Pau," he corrected with a quick glance around him, "then I can insist that any 'treaty' or whatever include a stipulation that our people are off limits, and that any evidence that even suggests that one of our people has been taken by either group will not only mean that the deal is off, but that I'm gonna start tearing hell outta their new navy. Which I will," he added firmly.

"Quite so, too," Janos supported readily. "I had not thought of these things. I am used to operating in the shadows. Taking one of our kind would be impossible for them."

"Yeah, but all our people ain't. . .well, our people," Trip pointed out, thinking of Tala among others.

"I'm open to suggestions," Janos said at long last. "So long as we are not put at a disadvantage, then I'm listening."

 **STE**

"I resent the hell out of that!"

"You wanna reel that in, Jon," Trip growled back and T'Pol was alarmed to see a ripple along her husband's forehead. "You know as well as I do that it happens. Don't it, Commander?" he turned to look at Malcolm Reed, who Trip had insisted be present for this meeting.

"Mate, I. . ." Mal hesitated, then sighed.

"I'm afraid Trip's correct, Commodore," he admitted. "While Minister T'Pau will be unlikely able to confirm it, I'm sure the Ambassador there can confirm that Vulcan has been guilty of the same thing," he nodded to Soval. The old Vulcan's expression never changed.

"I would have no knowledge of any such-"

"You most certainly would," T'Pol cut him off, almost showing anger. "You were an agent of the V'Shar long before you were a mouthpiece for V'Las."

 _Easy, ashyam,_ Trip sent to her through their bond. _Don't allow him the pleasure_.

 _As you say_ , she returned as she schooled her features.

"Don't bother denying it, Ambassador," Mal almost smirked. "It's a well known fact among Earth intel services."

"And how would you know that?" Soval asked.

"Classified," Mal smiled thinly.

"Let's get back on point, here," Jon looked at Soval. "Is it true?"

"Yes, Commodore, it is true," Soval gave the Vulcan equivalent of a sigh. "All of it."

Jon looked back to Reed's set face, then looked at Trip, somewhat crestfallen.

"I. . .I didn't know," he admitted.

"I know," Trip said gently. "But you wanted to know why I had trust issues. This is why."

"I don't blame you," Jon nodded. "And I'll certainly include it in the agreement."

"You cannot put such things in writing," Soval insisted. "No sane government would agree to sign such a thing."

"You had better, if you want my help," Trip shrugged. "And just so we're on the same page, gentlemen and lady," he leaned forward and Jon had to fight not to pull back from his friend's presence, "if there's even a hint that one o' my people went missin' because of something one of your governments did, I'll make you regret it."

"Threats are unproductive, Captain," T'Pau said from her seat beside Archer.

"Wasn't a threat," Trip promised. "For starters, if one of my people disappears and I think you had something to do with it, I'll cook your shipyards."

The alarm on Archer's face was almost comical.

"You wouldn't!" he almost shouted. "How could you do something like that? Even think it?"

"Same way I thought about destroying the Xindi race," Trip shrugged easily. "Unlike some of you, I'm loyal to them that's loyal to me. I think either government is taking and torturing my people, you won't have to worry about the Romulans any more. They won't find anything but ashes when they get here."

"I do not believe you would go so far," T'Pau replied. Trip merely leaned on the table, allowing the small Minister to look into his eyes.

To her credit, T'Pau held his gaze for several seconds. Those seconds would be enough to give her nightmares for the next two weeks and she finally lowered her gaze.

"Sure 'bout that?" Trip taunted. "I'm trying hard to like you, Minister," he said a bit more gently. "In large part because of the company you keep," he nodded to Archer, who fought to hide a smile. Despite the changes in his friend, some things were permanent. Trip _was_ still his friend, regardless of the threats he was making.

"And in spite of other company you're keeping," Trip spared a death glare for Soval who, in spite of his neutral face, flushed in anger.

"But you've used about all the patience I can spare ya," Trip concluded. "Don't keep pressin' me. I'm doin' this because y'all need help. I don't have to do it."

"We appreciate it, Trip," Jon interjected, fighting his own urges to protect T'Pau. One because he knew she didn't need it because he knew Trip wouldn't attack her. The other was because he knew that it would do no good, anyway.

"I know," Trip sighed, leaning back again at pressure on his shoulder from T'Pol. "Anyway. I'm willin' to sell you the hull alloy I developed, as well as the shield technology."

"Which was based on Vulcan technology anyway, according to the wavelengths," Soval just had to add.

"Your people aren't the only folks who can use those frequencies, Grumpy," Trip shot back. "And I'm giving you the shifts, variances, and waves that let me shrug off a coordinated attack by over a dozen of you best combat cruisers. Might want to keep that in mind."

"Indeed," T'Pol's voice was frosty.

"What about weapons?" Jon asked.

"You don't need it," Trip shrugged. "Between you, you have excellent weapons, and the know how to develop more. Put it together in your own collection. You may not want what we use, anyway."

"Your torpedoes have a substantially larger yield than Vulcan weapons," Soval reminded him.

"They sure do," Trip smiled unpleasantly.

"This will be a great help, regardless," Jon replied, trying to head off another confrontation.

"I've got one more thing to offer," Trip said, looking at Malcolm. "Are you gonna be the _Enterprise_ 's commander when it starts this diplomatic journey?" he asked.

Reed looked at Archer, who shrugged.

"I haven't gotten an answer, yet," he admitted. "I'm trying."

"Well, this might sweeten the deal," Trip leaned forward. "I'll _give_ you a ship, Commodore. No, not like _Reaper_ , that won't ever happen. But I've ordered a custom built yacht on a freighter hull, complete with a superior sensor package, boat bay with an armed shuttle, and a weapons compliment that would keep a Vulcan cruiser at bay, including the same shields I just offered you. I'll also provide some of the crew for it, including the very capable body guards I assigned you on Vulcan, and engineers who can keep her running at peak efficiency."

"If Malcolm is given command," Jon grinned, seeing where this was going.

"If and only if," Trip nodded. "I trust him not to turn that ship over to anyone else. Or to allow it to be dissected. The two of you," he pointed to Archer and T'Pau, "are important. Just your presence is enough to keep the UE and Vulcan governments on the strait and narrow. It's worth it to me to make sure you're well protected."

"I'll be sure and forward that to Forrest," Archer nodded.

"I will so inform Minister Kuvak," T'Pau agreed.

"I'm flattered, mate," Mal said quietly.

"Captain's quarters are soundproof," Trip whispered with a wink, causing Mal's face to turn a deep red, though no one else could hear.

"Why would that be important?" T'Pau inquired.

 _Almost_ no one else, Trip sighed.

"Sorry man, I was just teasin' ya."

"Quite all right," Malcolm nodded, managing not to cough. "And I will get you back. Somehow."

"Well, we are headed to Risa in a day or so," Trip said with a grin. "I guess we could haul you and a few others along, then drop you off to pick up your new ship." Malcolm looked at Archer.

"If I can get Forrest to agree with this, I'll approve it," he nodded at once. "I like this idea. I much prefer the idea of being able to focus solely on our work with the charter."

"What charter?" Trip asked.

"We're trying to form a coalition among all the planets that stand in the path of the supposed Romulan invasion," Archer replied. "I expect it to be hard work to say the least. I'd rather not have to concentrate on running a ship _and_ convincing other governments to throw in with us."

"Glad I could help out, then," Trip smiled.

 **STE**

"This is tantamount to blackmail," Forrest complained. "You know that, right?"

"Yep," Archer grinned. "It is."

"I thought Tucker would remember where he came from," Forrest sighed.

"You think he doesn't?" Jon frowned at that. "Hell, Max, the fact that he does remember where he came from is both the reason we're getting what we are and that we're not getting more. Let's be honest, here. When has EarthGov given any of us a reason to be trusting. Or Starfleet for that matter," he added with a barb. "How many times have you lied to me, Max? I don't care what the reason was," he raised a hand to forestall any excuses. "I don't even really expect an answer. Just saying that for thought."

Forrest nodded silently, acknowledging the hit.

"Hayes says that even he and his MACOs can't hold a candle to what some of Trip's people are capable of. He's thrilled at the idea of having even a handful of them aboard for additional security. This deal also give you _Enterprise_ back," he added. "It gives us a safe diplomatic vessel that isn't Earth or Vulcan in design, too. And all he's asking in return is that Malcolm Reed be given command."

"Because you want him," Forrest almost accused.

"No, actually," Jon surprised him. "It's because Trip _trusts_ Reed. You want him to help, then we need to start building some trust with him, Max. It really is that simple. And I have to admit I like the idea of knowing someone like that is on our side, and that his very capable people will be protecting T'Pau."

"You're really taken with her, aren't you?" Max asked, smiling. A friendly smile this time. A happy smile for a man he considered a friend, 'lies' aside.

"I. . .I think so," Jon nodded. "We'll see," he added.

"All right," Forrest sighed. "I'll sign off on it. Under protest, but I'll keep the protest between you and me. And I won't promise that I won't have to yank Reed out of there at some point in the future."

"If you do he'll resign I'm pretty sure," Jon warned. "Just so you know. You'll want to discuss that with him before you make the decision. Just a heads up, that's all," he added.

"Fair enough," Forrest nodded. "Starfleet clear." The screen went dark and Archer leaned back.

"There's no way negotiating with other people will be as difficult as 'negotiating' with our own," he told T'Pau, who say just off screen.

"You think so?" she asked, ignoring his statement. "You _think_ you are taken with me, Commodore?"

Jon suppressed a groan. She only reverted to calling him Commodore when she was pissed.

"Now, T'Pau, it's not like that. . . ."

 **STE**

"So, it's a done deal," Archer said over the screen. "I've got it all in writing, too," he waved a sheaf of papers in the air. "I'll have to ask that you keep this a complete secret, Trip," he added. "It was all I could do to get it signed. But both parties agree, though with the standard clause of not admitting to having done any such thing in the past."

"I don't care what they admit to," Trip shrugged. "Just remember what I said, Jon. I'm not playing. Even one of my people comes up missing, someone's going to pay. You want to make sure it's not you or Vulcan, cause the payment will be steep. Make sure you understand. I consider the people who work for me family. You'll remember what I did the last time a member of my family was murdered. You might want to make sure the Vulcans understand it that well."

Jon paled visibly as the full realization of Trip's threat finally hit home.

"I'll make sure," he nodded. "But I don't want you holding us responsible for some rogue action by someone like Terra Prime, or some other outfit, Trip. That's not fair."

"Better make sure there ain't a connection for me to find, then," Trip refused to back down. "That's your responsibility, Commodore. To make sure there aren't any 'rogues' in your operation."

"Fair enough," Jon agreed. "We're still putting the diplomatic staff together and preparing positions to present to others. Our first stop will be Andoria."

"Call Shran and tell him you're coming then," Trip suggested. "He can probably help smooth the way for you, at least a little. May want to leave that Vulcan cruiser at home for that one, but he can tell you one way or another I guess. I'm sure they won't be afraid of one ship," he smirked at some private joke.

"I'll keep that in mind," Jon nodded. "We'll see you in what. Two months?"

"Give or take," Trip nodded. "We'll escort your new ship back here and then be about our own business."

"Fair enough," Jon nodded. "Thanks for everything, Trip."

"Take care, Jon."

 **STE**

"This is some ship," Hoshi noted as she and Malcolm reported aboard, followed by three ensigns and eight enlisted crewmen who would be part of the new ship's crew. All vetted by more than one security check and then screened by Reed himself.

"So it is," Reed nodded. He was about to have second thoughts about turning Janos' offer down when an image of Hoshi Sato, in a most indelicate position, flashed through his mind, pushing the regret away.

"What's on your mind, Commander?" Hoshi asked playfully.

"You'll know soon enough," he promised as Trip and T'Pol appeared down the passageway coming to meet them.

"Welcome aboard, folks!" Trip grinned, hugging Hoshi tightly. "How are you, Hosh?"

"Still pissed at you," she admitted. "But happy to see you alive, you jerk. T'Pol, it's great to see you again," she smiled, but resisted the urge to hug the older woman.

"It is likewise agreeable to see you, Lieutenant," T'Pol nodded. She and Trip had decided that T'Pol would continue to 'play' the full blooded Vulcan, at least for now. They would like as not share her heritage with Reed and Sato later on that evening, but it was not for public consumption.

"Dru'hak will see you all to quarters," he pointed to where the towering Klingon XO of the Reaper was standing back at a respectful distance. "He's my exec, and he'll be appointing a crew member to liaise with you while you're on board. Need anything, just ask. Armory and Engineering are off limits, but the rec areas, mess, observation dome and other area are accessible. We'll walk you two to quarters ourselves," he told Malcolm and Hoshi. "This way."

"Seeing this beast never gets old," Reed said wistfully, walking down the passageway.

"Second thoughts, Commander?" Hoshi asked, looking up at him.

"No, luv," he shook his head. "No second thoughts."

Behind them, Not Actually an Ensign Evans heard that exchange and almost frowned. So Sato was the reason he had chosen to remain behind. She wondered what July would think of that. Or Janos for that matter.

"This way, Ensign," Dru'hak's voice interrupted her train of thought at that point.

"Yes sir," she replied, following dutifully. Reed had made good on his promise to ensure that she was included in his assignments. She would be stationed aboard the new vessel as a sensor technician. Her mission remained unchanged, she'd been informed.

Malcolm Reed was to be protected at any costs. All costs.

She would make sure that happened.

 **STE**

"We'll be on Risa for five to seven days," Trip told Malcolm. "After that, we can take you to the yard, or we can let you guys tag along while we take down an Orion base. Up to you."

"I'd actually like to see that," Mal admitted. "If you think we have the time," he added.

"Ship won't be ready for trials for at least five weeks," Trip shrugged. "Not much you can do until then. This is information on all the systems," he said, handing over a PADD. "And I've arranged training sessions with the people you brought aboard while we're enroute. They'll be able to hit the ground running when you take command."

"What are you calling her?" Malcolm asked.

"Don't know yet," Trip shrugged. "Figured I'd let Jon and T'Pau think on that. Or you, for that matter," he added. "Don't matter to me either way. Now, we're getting under way, and I'm hungry."

"You hungry, Malcolm?"

 **STE**

"So our gambit has failed."

"I'm afraid so, Admiral," the _Tal'shiar_ agent nodded. "There was some limited success in damaging the Vulcan fleet, but. . .diplomatically, their relations with both Earth and Andoria seem to have been strengthened."

"And this information on my daughter," Taobok raised the report. "You are certain of it?"

"I am, sir," the agent nodded respectfully. "She is mated to a human male. Charles Tucker, of Earth, though he apparently no longer calls Earth home."

"Interesting," Taobok mused. "Were it not for Kovan and his idiot son, my daughter might now be with me, safe from what is to come. Or better still, at my side, as is proper."

"She is a formidable woman, my lord," the female agent agreed. "And her chosen mate is more so."

"Yes," Taobok lifted the report again. "Defeated Kovan's moronic offspring in single combat. Handily so, it appears."

"And later killed him in secret, my lord," the agent added.

"Even better," Taobok nodded firmly. "Hope is not lost if my daughter is mated to such a man. We shall see what the future holds." He turned to face the agent.

"Begin preparations for the next stage. The failure to ignite war between Vulcan and Andoria is a setback, but not insurmountable. We will yet return to our homeworld and see it shrouded in the shade of the Raptor's Wings."

 **STE**

 _And here we are at the end of another adventure. I plan, at some point this year, to write the final stage of this little opera, Lord willing I live and am able. That will likely be my last foray into Fanfic of any kind, as my original work is beginning to demand all of my time as my publisher wants my efforts concentrated on that, and rightly so._

 _If you want to see examples of my original works, as well as a few fanfics that haven't been loaded here, be sure and visit my blog, . If you follow, there are always announcements of new works posted there as well as whatever I happen to be ranting on at the time, lol. My next original release is the original character that my Firefly fanfic character, Shade, was based on,_ Stormcrow _._

 _Thank you, all of you, for your reviews and your encouragement over the years. I really appreciate it._

 _BAD_


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